Needs
by shadowdemontenma
Summary: Life is tough for a newbie hunter. Even more so for Catherine Collins, or Cat as she prefers it. But running into the Winchesters? Kind of makes it worth it. COMPLETE
1. Bloody Mary

_**OK, so there are a lot of OC fics out there for SPN. And all of the ones I have read, mesh the OC into their lives and keep them there permanently. And while that might eventually happen for this fic, its definitely going to be different at first. The story is going to follow the OC. But I promise, the boys will be in every chapter. Thus I'm naming the chapters after the episode that each chapter is around. This one is around the time of Bloody Mary. You'll see :) Read, review and I hope you love it. Also...**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do no own SPN or any of the characters. I also do not own the actors... wouldn't it be nice though. I put this here, on the first chapter, and I don't do another disclaimer. At least I'm doing one lol**_

Chapter 1: Bloody Mary

I check my cell phone. It was probably time for me to go. I'd come for a case too late it seemed. As I'd pulled up to the house of one of the victim's friends, I saw her smiling and waving to two men in a black '67 Chevy Impala. Even if I'd never seen the boys before, I'd heard rumors of the family. Heard of the car. It was hunter legend. The Impala was owned by the Winchester family. Sure there are probably lots of '67 Impalas out there. A lot of them were probably even black. But to be in such good condition, and to be there where there was a hunt? It couldn't be coincidence. In this job, you realize there is no such thing. The boys pull away, and so do I.

Of course I would find my way to a bar just outside of Toledo. Growing up on the job, you tend to drink. It was just a hunter thing. There had to be something to numb the nightmares the job brought. So as I stared at my shot of vodka, I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw the door open and in walk the Winchester boys. I assessed them silently, tipping back the shot and slamming the liquid. It burned its way down my throat and I flipped the shot glass upside down, leaning back in my seat as they passed by me. They sat at the table next to mine, the older of the boys shooting me a look that said a few things if you were as good at reading people as I am. First, he was upset, more than likely because I had the table with the best vantage point of the whole bar. As a hunter, he would want to be able to check out the entire place. Eyes always moving. Second, he was interested. He whispered something to his younger brother, who rolled his eyes, and pulled a laptop from a bag.

Even if I wasn't interested, which I had to be a fool not to be, his looks made me feel just a little bit self conscious. This was him, THE Dean Winchester. And the rumors about the Dean didn't just pertain to hunts. Some said he was quite the womanizer. I ran my hand through my shoulder length dark auburn hair, and straightened my shirt. Of course, I didn't look at him while I did. It's not like I'm a virgin, its just not every day that a legend gives you bedroom eyes. I glanced down at my empty glass, and raised my hand to the waitress, who was pretty quick to bring me a second shot. I knew I would need it if he were to approach. Which his body language was shouting. I handed her some cash, paying for both shots, and giving her a tip. I would stop there for the sense in getting drunk and having a hang over in the morning, it was a long drive to the next hunt I had lined up. As I stare down the shot in front of me, Dean slides into the chair in front of me. He introduces himself, giving a fake name and some cheesy identity. I give him a flirtatious smile.

"I'm Angela Bennett," I give him my reporter name. I'm a hunter after all. I do a lot of illegal things, and hunter or not, I just wasn't sure whether or not I would be giving Dean Winchester my real name.

"So, do you live in Toledo, Angela?" he asks. I fight a smile. I could already tell he was going to try out some pick up lines. So I had a decision to make. Sleep with him, or move on. Hunters run into each other all the time. So if I didn't tonight, I probably had a chance down the road. Not that I was sure I wanted that. But hey, life on the road is tough and lonely. So maybe eventually. I slammed my shot, flipping the glass, stood up and gave Dean another winning smile.

"Passing through Dean Winchester, just passing through," I told him. He looked shocked. I lean down to whisper. "I had you pegged for hunters when I first saw you. You're body language screams I've-seen-things-you-can-only-imagine. Not only that, but I've heard all kinds of stories about your family. So yea, I know exactly who you are. Sorry about the table by the way, hunter habit." I say raising my voice to normal tones. He looked relieved to know that I was just a hunter and not some crazy person. I reach my hand into my purse, and pull out a card with my reporter ID and my cell phone number on it. I was about to leave when he grabbed my arm. I shot him a warning glare.

"Wait, I haven't seen very many female hunters," he said lamely. I smirked, flopping down in my seat. Dean waved his brother over to the table. The younger Winchester sighs, picking his stuff up and shuffling over to the table. It was almost comical really. I held out my hand to the younger brother. I introduced myself, and waited for him to do the same. He gave Dean a look before introducing himself. "She's a hunter Sammy it's ok," Dean said. We talked for a little while, after I told them that I'd been coming to do the hunt that they'd just finished up. I pulled out a notebook and paper, taking down notes about the hunt they had done. The gave me a strange look. I blushed a little. "Why not just carry a journal?" Sam asked. Dean pulled his father's journal out of his jacket. I looked at the thing in horror.

"I... I just couldn't. Not like that anyways," I told them. They gave me another strange look. "I'll show you mine, you show me yours?" I questioned, indicating the door. Sam actually blushed that time, and Dean raised an eyebrow. "Cars," I clarified, standing from the table. The boys followed, paying for their drinks and grabbing their food to go. I had to laugh, when I realized that by some strange twist of fate, that they'd parked right next to my 2000 Chevy Malibu. It was black too. I hit the button on my keys, and the trunk popped up. I leaned against the bumper, waiting for the Winchester's to open their trunk. I'd had the trunk refitted, much like they had. The top was shallower, and there was a false bottom, leading to a larger than normal space in the bottom. I'd ditched the spare tire, and had filled the bottom part with hunting gear. Of course, mine is much more organized than theirs is. And that was my problem with the journal. I have a pretty bad case of OCD. While their space was a clutter of guns, ammo, knives and the like, mine was compartmentalized. I'd had the refitting professionally done, then painstakingly took 1/8th inch wooden panels and made my own boxes.

Looking at it all now, and showing these legends with their messy trunk, I actually started to feel embarrassed about my OCD. I've never met any other hunter who was organized like me. I closed the false bottom, and pulled 2 crates from the very back of the trunk. In the first were all of my lore books. In the second was a series of leather bound journals. I pulled them from the crate and set them side by side. Sam hesitantly reached out and grabbed the first. He opened it and flipped through the pages. "This is just about different types of ghosts, and ways you've defeated certain ghosts." he said. He grabbed the next. "And this is monsters. You have names, dates, hunting patterns. This is all pretty elaborate," Sam said. He looked impressed. Of course, he was a college student, so he could value something like this. Dean on the other hand, just looked a little bored.

"I'm thinking about maybe one day making a lore book. A good one, with valid information. Anyways," I started, trailing off. I put my books back in my crate and shut the trunk. There was also a journal for pagan gods, and one for demons. I scooted over to their trunk, and examined things. Nothing was new, and some of it was in bad shape. Some things were clearly hand made. "Oh!" I exclaimed. I picked up a thick wooden stake that was carved almost perfectly to a point. "Sometime in the future, you are going to have to show me how to carve a stake. Mine work, to a point, but they are no where near as good as these!" I grinned at Dean, knowing intuitively that they were his work. He looked pretty pleased with himself after that. I'm a people pleaser that way. Besides, who wouldn't want to impress the Winchesters?

"So where to next then, Angela?" Sam asked. I blushed. It was probably a good idea to tell them my real name if I was going to be friendly with them, and they would make good friends to know. But what would I tell them about where I was going next?

"Well... where to next, is wherever the next hunt is, I guess," I said smiling. I told them I'd hear rumors of bloodless corpses up near Stowe, Vermont, but that since I was going to be passing through Ohio I'd stopped there first. "I just hope that no one's jumped on my case this time too," I joked. They gave me another look. I sighed.

"You know there are people out there, older hunters, that get information on cases together and send the younger hunters out to work, right?" Dean asked. I nodded, explaining that I didn't really have a lot of contacts. He sighed, and pulled out his cell phone. I did the same and he quickly gave me his and Sam's phone numbers. "How do you get past all the red tape on some of these cases?" I had the grace to look ashamed.

"A little bribery here, some less than modest clothing there... I get by," I said skirting the truth. "It helps that I don't use any high profile aliases. Med student for the morgues, reporter for crime scenes. Those are my main ones anyways," I said giving a smile. A thought seemed to cross Dean's mind.

"So, this being a thankless job and all, what's your specialty?" he asks. I gave him a confused look. "Making money? You play pool?" he asked. He looked a little excited.

"Why you going to some other dive with a pool table looking to make a quick buck?" I joked. He laughed, saying something about how Sam's lost his touch. My stomach dropped. I wasn't very good at pool or any other scam really. I reached in my purse, grabbing some cash, and handing it to him. "I'll do you one better, have some cash," I told him. He accepted it hesitantly. There was at least 250 there. He whistled. I could see the look on his face, knew that he was going to ask. "I gotta have some mysteries, Dean Winchester," I said, getting into my driver's seat. It was time to make my escape. I backed out of my spot, and rolled down the window. "By the way, my real name is Catherine Collins," I told them. Driving away.

 _ **So... chapter one! Hope you guys liked it. Next chapter is a look into Cat's hunting style.**_


	2. Scarecrow

_**So as terrible as I am about posting chapters at least I'm typing still! So Chapter 2. And remember, for the first part of the story, there won't be much Winchester action.**_

Chapter 2: Scarecrow

I pulled my car into an empty parking space at the public library in Milan, Indiana. I stepped inside, and headed over to the computers there. I was here to do some research on some dug up graves, where the bodies would be later found looking less... well less than whole. I booted up the computer and waited for the internet to load. While I waited I checked my flip-phone for any messages. None of course. My friends hadn't messaged me for long after they realized I wasn't coming back to stay.

It wasn't like I'd planned on becoming a hunter and leaving everyone behind. But when I had walked into my parent's house, and found them murdered, I had realized something was up. The cops had never found the killer, and had eventually ruled it an animal attack. But I hadn't believed them. I did a lot of research. And after a while, I gave up. But then I encountered my first ghost. I'd gone to a college to distract myself from my grief, only to find out my college was haunted, and that there was a history of students hanging themselves, all chalked up to stress from attending classes. I'd ignored it until my roomate hung herself. Through trial and error, I finally found the remains, salted and burned them, and had killed my first thing supernatural. After I realized there were other things out there, I started hunting. Nearly got myself killed tons of times. But I trained in my down time and eventually got to the point I'm at now. A passable hunter, with no preference or specialty. I still wasn't sure what had killed my parents.

The computer finally loaded the internet, and I began my search on local lore. There had never been any rumors about anything in the area. Small-town, quiet people. I sighed, and began pulling up information on the more likely of the monster suspects. Ghoul was the top of the list. And I hated ghouls. I'd only ever fought one, but it had taken half a dozen swings to decapitate the darn thing. Of course that was towards the beginning and I wasn't quite as strong as I am now. Cracking my knuckles, I shut down the computer and thank the librarian. I walk out to my car, and drive over to the cemetery to check out the holes where the corpses came up.

Most of the holes had been covered back up, but there was a fresh one in the back corner. Most likely from last evening. Cautiously, I drop into the hole. I check the dirt around me, and can tell it wasn't a shovel that had dug the earth. After another minute, I found a fingernail. Gross. Then I looked at the casket underneath my feet. There was a large hole where the creature had pulled the body out, hair and clothing pieces left behind. I pull myself out of the hole, and brush away the dirt, heading back for my car. Luckily I hadn't been caught. I looked around, hoping to spot the place the creature was most likely hiding, but there weren't any crypts in the small cemetery. Resigned, I got into the Malibu, and went to find somewhere quiet.

There weren't any hotels in the one stoplight town, so I was going to have to sleep in my car and wait for evening. Hopefully I'd be able to catch the ghoul in the act, and leave tonight, and be able to sleep in a bed somewhere soon. I follow the quiet path through the woods and stop somewhere along the way, pull over, and kick back my seat. I close my eyes, and pull my jacket over my shoulders, and fall asleep

It was about an hour til sundown when I woke up. I drove to the towns only fast food restaurant and ordered, then pulled around. It was a Dairy Queen, so I was expecting at least a little bit of a wait. I opened my phone and sent a quick text to Dean.

 **What's up?**

His reply was quick to come. **Finishing up with a pagan god in Burkitsville, Indiana, you?**

I smiled. **Ghoul in Milan, same state. Not really sure if its just one or if its a pack.**

 **Need some help?** I hesitated. Did I want to seem weak? Or accept some help with something when I'm not one hundred percent sure what I am dealing with.

 **If you are bored** I finally replied. I flipped the phone closed and pulled forward to receive my food. I went over to the gas station to fill up and then headed back to the wooded path I'd parked on earlier. As I ate my food, my phone dinged.

 **Be there in the morning.** I smiled. It was always hard to tell with a ghoul whether or not they would be alone or if they were with others. It changed with them. And if there were more than one, I'd be glad of the help. So tonight, I would just do recon, and find their hide-out, so it'd only take one night for the boys. After my meal, I opened my trunk and grabbed the large backpack I kept for cases. I opened and double checked the essentials. Flashlight; light still shining brightly, a tin of Mortin salt; cause you never know when you are gonna need it, a large handful of matchbooks; because I wasn't about to throw lighters on bones unless I had to, a small handgun; for protection against people, an iron knife, and some night vision goggles. I put a sawed off shotgun in the bag, and clipped the sheathe of my machete to the side. I backed out of the space I was in, and drove to the cemetary. I parked down the road so I wouldn't get in trouble with authorities. I pulled out the small backpack I'd thrown together earlier, and walked to the fence, scaling it quickly. I dropped down on the other side, and made my way quietly over to the tree in the center. There was a memorial setting nailed into the tree. Must have been uprooted and planted there. I climbed up, and pulled out the night vision goggles I'd invested in. Nothing worse than getting attacked because something sees you better than you see it. From the pack, I also got out my sawed off shotgun. I clicked off the safety, and all I had left was to wait. I'd be foolish to sit in a monster feeding den without a weapon after all. Ghouls don't always eat dead flesh.

It was around 3:30 am when I finally spotted them. They were cutting it close on the grave digging. Or they would have been, if there weren't four of them. _Four_. I'd almost walked into my funeral. I watched them make quick work of the grave they'd picked at random, and pull out the corpse. I watched carefully, trying to figure out which one was the leader. Then I realized. It was a frigging _family_ of ghouls. Dad, Mom, and two kids. I dropped from the tree, and followed them from as far back as I dared. Eventually, they dropped into a dugout hole in the ground. They'd made their own crypt even. The situation was more dangerous than I'd originally thought. I turned and hightailed it back to my car. I sent Dean a text.

 **So...family of four with their own dug out accomodations.** I shut my phone, and drove back to town. No way was I sleeping alone in the woods here. I'd park in a parking lot. Like the mostly empty JayC parking lot. I stopped in a back corner space, shut off the engine, and dropped the seat down for some sleep.

I opened my eyes to the sun glaring into them. I rubbed away the sleep as I turned my head to look at the source of the insistent rapping noise on my window. I was about to glare and snap off a comment about people touching my car, when I recognized the face doing the knocking. I yawn, stretch, and exit my vehicle. The Impala was parked right next to my Malibu, and the Winchester brothers standing between them. I leaned down to glance in my side mirror, hoping that I didn't look too horrible. Life wasn't so easy. I made an attempt to smooth my hair as I explained to the boys what all I'd found that night. They wanted to go scope out the cemetery themselves and check out the hole, so I told them I'd meet them there after I grabbed some breakfast. They got in the Impala and left, so I got into my car and fixed my hair. I grabbed a change of clothing, stuffing it into the large 'purse' I carried, and headed into the store. After a quick stop in the bathroom to change clothing, I went over to the bakery and grabbed 2 dozen donuts. If the boys drove all night they were probably hungry too, I reasoned.

They were just finishing up as I pulled into the cemetery parking lot. I hopped out of my car and set the boxes of donuts on the trunk of my car, and pulled out some small bottles of milk. Apparently breakfast met Dean's standards because he grinned at me around a mouthful of doughnut. He leaned up against the side of my car and swallowed before asking me a question. "So, you know much about Vanirs?"

I wracked my brain. I remembered that they were on a pagan god hunt, but I wasn't familiar with that particular one. So I pulled out my notebook and he filled me in on the hunt they had just come from. Whenever he was done, he smacked my ponytail. "Nerd," he declared, reaching for another doughnut. I punched him in the side. After breakfast, it was time to make plans. It definitely wasn't a good idea to go after the ghouls in their den. We had no idea how big it was in there, and it would be just my luck the we'd get down there and there wouldn't be enough room and someone would get hurt. So the plan was to lure them out with some fresh blood. I immediately volunteered to be the bleeder, as it was my case. Dean gave me an odd look, and I shrugged. The hole was only big enough for them to come up one at a time, but we needed them to come completely out in order to continue to lure the next one. Plans set, it was only left to wait until dark.

I glanced back at the boys nervously. They were standing at the ready, freshly sharpened machetes in hand. Dean nodded the go ahead, and I stepped up to the hole. I took the edge of my own machete, held my left arm over the opening and placed a short but deep cut along the side of my arm. I let the wound bleed into the hole for a minute, and listened. I heard the sounds of movement, and backed away from the hole. Dean stepped forward, and I turned to Sam. He'd also been holding a cloth for me to tie up my arm with. Wouldn't do for me to lose a lot of blood after all. A dull thud alerted me that Dean had already made the first kill, and I turned, tightening the quick bandage. A second one was crawling out, closely followed by a third. Sam and I walked forward, and beheaded them. Two more came out. Yea, two. They were quickly ended, and nothing else came out. "I have to go down there." I told them. Dean looked like he was going to protest. "Stop with the feminism. I'm smaller, and we don't know if there are more of them. I have to make sure this is over. I'll shout if I need your help or something," I told them. Sam bade me to be careful, and I dropped down into the hole. It wasn't very tall at all, and I had to crouch to move. After a short distance, the space opened up into a pit. I rolled my shoulders, holding up the machete like a baseball bat. The area barely looked stable, and I wanted to be quick. There were bones everywhere, but no signs of movement. After being quick, but thorough, I hurried down the tunnel, and offered up my hands for help out of the hole. After taking away the machete, two hands pulled me up, and I smiled and thanked the boys. After piling up the bodies and burning them, we went back to the cars, and I popped my trunk, pulling a bag of towels out. I tossed them each one. "Wouldn't want you getting blood all over your baby," I grinned at Dean, and took a towel to my front seat, draping it over. I was covered in mud. After, I waved a quick goodbye to the Winchesters and watched them drive off. I pulled away from the cemetery shortly after, and took off, heading for the next town over. I needed a shower, and that meant a hotel.

 _ **OK, so there's a random hunt, not really that exciting or anything, it'll get better though. This is my first SPN fanfiction after all. (Gripped and Raised from Perdition is the work of my twin sister.) It was getting kind of long, and Indiana is kind of a boring state (well Ripley County is, no offense guys who live there but I hated it) so hopefully I can get some better stuff going, but that involves being able to do research on the internet, and that takes a while with my shoddy computer. Gotta pick towns look at maps blah blah blah. Anyways, till next time.**_


	3. Dead Man's Blood and Salvation

_**Not much note to write other than if you're familiar with me, I'm a semi-lazy author. As in I work a lot so I don't update very frequently at all. But otherwise, if you are new to me as an author, I totally understand if you don't stick around, but I do hope you enjoy anything of mine that you read. However if you catch me slipping into 3rd person pov its because that's how I normally write. I'd like to challenge myself to write in 1st. Without further ado...**_

Chapter 3: Dead Man's Blood and Salvation

I pulled up in front of the Motel 6 I'd found not far from my target location. I parked the car, stopped the engine and stepped out. I stretched breathing a sigh of relief as my joints popped and stopped aching. I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and locked my car. I glanced around til I found a door that led to a front desk. As I entered, I saw the concierge with another person, arguing. So I took a seat and pulled out my phone I send a message to Dean. ' **Its kinda funny watching the hotel guy argue with the out of towner.'** I sent the message and waited for a reply. The argument was actually beginning to wrap up, both sides running out of things to say. My screen flashed with a reply and I smiled, opening it.

 **'Well I never realized they kept so much security on dead people."** Confused as to why Dean would be at a morgue, I punched my question and stood to meet the clerk. He looked a little frazzled and I wondered who won the argument. He greeted me, so I smiled at him. "I was wondering about renting a room for...say a week." I say cheerfully. He types a few things into the computer before him, before looking up to me.

"Reservation name?" he asks. I reach into my purse, pulling out a twenty.

"Look, I've been on the road for a while now... driving from New York to L.A. You know how it goes I'm sure. And I got a little lost, and didn't have time to make a reservation. Is there any way I can convince you to find me a room?" I ask sliding the twenty across the counter. He types into his computer again.

"So it's going to be $45 a night, with a $50 deposit. The room is a basic, so no microfridge, and no pool access." He took the twenty from under my fingers and waited for me to pull out more money. This time I took my pocketbook out, and withdrew $370. While I waited for him to make change, I frowned at my dimished cash supply. It was almost time to get more. Closing the pocketbook after tossing in the change, I smiled and took the key offered. Room 110. So I headed out the door, got in my car and drove down to the spot in front of my room. I got out, popped the trunk, grabbed my duffel bag of clothes and my backpack, before closing the trunk and heading into the room. Dropping the bags on the bed, I checked my phone again.

 **'Need the blood of a dead guy for a hunt.'** I tilted my head, debating on whether to press further. Deciding against it, I wished him luck, informed him I was going to enjoy a nice hot shower, and snapped my phone shut dropping it on the bed. I double checked that I'd relocked the door, and heading into the bathroom, dropping my dirty clothing on the floor as I went.

About 45 minutes later, I stepped into the main part of the room, wrapped in a thin scratchy towel with the hotel's name stamped on it. I dug into my duffel, searching for something clean. Settling for a white skirt and a pale blue blouse, I shoved the towel and my dirty clothes into the bag. Taking the duffel with me, I exited the hotel room, and headed to the local coin-op laundromat. CY Laundromat it was called, off CY Ave. I'd passed my target location on the way, the Three Crowns Golf Club. It was a ritzy looking place, so I knew I'd have to dress the part.

After my laundry was finished, I stopped in a restaurant, grabbed me some food, and headed back to the hotel to work on the case. I hung my nice clothes in the closet to keep them wrinkle free for the next day, and opened my laptop. While I waited for it to load, I checked my phone. No messages. Shrugging, I set it on the table and logged in to my account. I pulled up the newspapers for the area, double checking the mysterious deaths. Two people were dead, found at the golf course, autopsies inconclusive. Toxicology screens were clear. The only thing that stood out was the extremely high levels of Cortisol in the bloodstream. The fear hormone. But adrenalin and noradrenalin levels were normal. So I knew I was dealing with something that fed on fear. I browsed through the rest of the papers fom around that time. Shortly after the second victim, there was a man found wandering the course. The article stated he had bloodshot eyes, and was raving about a demon dog. He was taken to the hospital and was declared a suspect in the other two cases. Some kind of drug was what they suspected. But they couldn't get the 3rd guy to make any sense. He was declared mentally ill and was being held in the psych ward. I decided that would be my second stop the next day. I checked the time. It was late evening, after dark, so I shut my laptop, and headed to bed.

It was the next morning. The sun filtering through the blinds dragged me from my sleep. I yawned, stretching, and made my way to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and hair, fixing it into a tight bun. I donned a nice skirt suit. From the duffel, I pulled a small lockbox. I opened it, and dug through the jewelry there. I found a fancy looking ring. It was costume, but no one ever noticed it unless they looked really close. Slipping the ring onto my left third finger, I grabbed my purse, locked the room and went to the car.

I had been right about the golf course. Full of people who looked like they had money to waste. I straightened my skirt and went in to the front desk. I was greeted by a friendly receptionist. I smiled back, "Hi, I'm Angela Bennett. My husband and I are new to the area and he just loves to golf in his downtime. Unfortunately he doesn't have a lot of that, so he's sent me to check this place out for him. Is there anyway I could get a tour?" I tilted my head just a little to the side while I waited for the receptionist to answer. They called someone on the little phone, and told me to wait. I checked my phone.

 **'Next time we meet, we are gonna have to talk vampires.'** I raised my eyebrow. As far as I knew, they'd been hunted to extinction. Must not be, if Sam and Dean had run into them. I typed back a quick reply.

 **'Done with your hunt then?'** The receptionist gestured to me, and I was approached by a woman in a gray pantsuit. "I hear you would like a tour of the facilities?" she inquired. A gave an affirmative, and was led away. She took me through the building, giving me the speech on the great features of the 'club' as she called it. Eventually, we worked our way outside. There was a boy there, waiting with a golf cart. The woman sat in the back, and indicated I join her. So I sat as we were driven around the outskirts of the course. I took mental notes about where possible locations for whatever creature I was hunting could be, and as I did, I asked about the deaths. "Oh, there isn't any danger coming here if that's what you were asking. They caught the guy who did it. Some loon was drugging people. So there's nothing to worry about!" she said cheerfully.

"But just in case, where did the attacks happen?" I asked, prying. She frowned at me, so I gave her an wide grin. "This is strictly off the record if that's what you are wondering. I've already checked out the media about this situation. Seems pretty open and closed, but I'd hate for something to happen to my husband because he wasn't paying attention and someone got the drop on him." Resigned, the woman pointed out in some direction.

"It happened over there, at the 9th hole. That bend there by the woods?" she indicated, making sure I saw it. The section was wooded. "That's where they happened. I nodded my head and gave thanks, now just wanting the tour to be over with. I'm fond of rich people. After a while, we returned to the main building and I thanked her again, before heading out, assuring her my husband would be in touch. I made my way to my car. Once inside, I pulled off the ring, tossing it in the glove box, and let my hair down out of the bun. I ran my fingers through my hair til it was tamed, and headed to the hospital mentioned in the article. I searched through my ID's in the glovebox, til I found one I was looking for. Karen Jones criminal psychology student. I exchanged the ID's in my pocketbook, and headed into the hospital.

It took some hoop jumping to convince them to let me see the patient, but finally I was in. The man was in restraints, but he didn't look like much of a fighter. He actually looked like someone that belonged at that 'club' but just a lot more frazzled. He looked up at me, narrowing his eyes. I smiled kindly and sat down in the chair near his bed. I waited for the orderly to leave, and then turned my attention to the man. "I'm Karen Jones, I have some questions about what you saw a few nights ago? The night you were brought here." I told him. He muttered something about her not believing him. "Believe me sir, I can be very open minded," I assured him. He gave a sigh.

"I was there in the afternoon. It was getting late, but I didn't want to go home. I figured I'd finish the 9th and then take the scenic route back. My wife just left me, and home is... not home anymore. I was at the bend in the 9th hole, and this massive black dog came from the woods. It came at me, slowly. I backed away, and tripped. The dog came over me and stared me in the face. Its breath was hot and rancid, and its eyes... he had hell in his eyes. I was terrified, too terrified to scream. But then it looked away, and ran off. They found me soon after." he looked out the window.

"You sound pretty lucid for someone declared mentally ill," I commented. He scoffed. "I'm assuming you told them about the dog with hell eyes and that's when they put you here?" he nodded his response. "Well rest assured, I believe you, and I'm going down to the course tonight to check out this black dog," I told him.

"Who are you again?" he asked. A gave him a tight lipped smile, before heading out the door. As I made my way back to the car, I checked my phone. **'Done with the case, but sticking around for a day or so I guess. Getting another case together. A big one."** Dean was working on a big case? What did that even mean?

 **'Where? Need any help?'** I sent back. If my case was just a Black Dog, then it should be a pretty quick solve. Just a ritual to cleanse the area, and banish the dog, and I could be on my way. My phone chimed with another message.

 **'No this one is personal.'** I head back to the hotel, and prepare myself for ritual. I change into dark clothing so I won't be as easy to see, and I go around town, finding the ingredients I need. The last one was always the hardest to get. The bone of a dog. So when dusk falls, I sneak around the neighborhood, hoping to happen upon the marked grave of a beloved pet. Somewhere without a security light. I found two buried cats before I found a dog. I took the first bone I got my gloved hands on, covered the bones and took off. I headed back to the golf course, backpack thrown over my shoulder, torch in hand, and began scaling the fence. Once I was over, it took a while to figure out where I had landed, then set off for my destination. As I approach the bend, a strong wind picks up. Knowing it was a warning, I stood straighter, and kept going. I found what looked like a good spot and knelt down. Dropping my backpack, I pulled out a can of silver spray paint and drew a circle. At the Four Corners, I placed candles and lit them. Between each candle I drew a Celtic symbol. At the center, I placed a brass bowl. I put the dog bone in the bowl, followed by wolfsbane, pennyroyal, comfrey, and garlic. Then I waited, matchbook in hand. After probably an hour, the dog emerged from the trees. It was everything the lore said it would be. Huge, fiery eyes, big teeth and claws. It looked vicious. I felt my breath hitch, and my heartbeat accelerate. Fumbling fingers lit the matches, and dropped them into the bowl. The dog continued to approach, growling furiously. Its fur sparked and caught fire but the dog continued. Originally blurry around the edges, the dog seemed to solidify, I kicked over the South candle, snuffing it out. The flames went away but still the dog came. I slowly pulled my phone out of my pocket, turned, and took off running.

–

Dean and Sam were watching the house of Monica and her husband. They'd been discussing their plan when Dean's phone rang. He was going to ignore it, but saw the name. He answered. "Hey, I told you I'm working on a big case." he said. He wasn't expecting the frantic reply. "Slow down, what?" Dean grabbed his dad's journal, wordlessly telling Sam to keep his eyes on the house. "Ok I got it! According to my dad's journal, its not just a black dog. It's a Barghest. Nasty bitches too. Basically, you have to kill it with silver. It should dissolve into bones. Then use one of the bones in the Black Dog ritual. Quickly too, because they... for lack of a better word, respawn." He listened to the reply. "You should always carry silver on you. Look you're gonna have to find a way to get back to your car. This thing isn't going to let up til you're dead." He heard the phone click, and flipped his own phone shut. Sam looked at him quickly. "Cat ran into a damn Barghest. Thought it was just an angry Black Dog and tried to get rid of it like one." He explained quickly.

–

I dashed towards the main building thanking every higher power that I'd always been a good runner. The Barghest seemed to be staying back a little, probably toying with me. I made it to the building after a while, and leapt against the glass, shattering it. Cuts burned along my arms where I'd defended my face. I got up and kept running, knowing that there would be some kind of security alarm, so I didn't have long. Luckily, the front door was the kind that locked outside but opened from the inside. I ran through and to my car. I unlocked the trunk as the Barghest came from the building and headed towards me. I grabbed for my handgun and silver bullets, pain shot down my left arm. I realized, I was beginning to have a heart attack. Slamming the clip into place, I aimed with my right hand, and fired. Headshot. The Barghest seemed to melt. My heart rate slowed and the pain went away. Clicking the safety on, I tucked the gun into the back of my pants. I grabbed a bone, thankfully clean, and climbed the wall again. I knew I didn't have much time, but running was out of the option. Just walking hurt. I was almost back to the spot, when the bone heated up in my hand. I dropped it, pulling my gun and backing away a bit. The dog seemed to grow from the bone, and it looked madder than before. Every bit of pain I'd felt before I shot it seemed more intense this go around. Even so, I shot the dog again. This time I missed, hitting it in the shoulder. I ran again, heading for the ritual space. A few steps away, pain ripped through my left shoulder as black clouded my vision in that direction. I felt its teeth sink further in. I dropped to my knees, meekly lifting my hand with the gun and firing point blank into the Barghest's skull. Bleeding profusely from my shoulder, I grabbed the bone again, throwing it into the bowl. I picked up the South candle, lit it, and then lit the bowl on fire. My vision faded as the rest of my body met the ground.

 _ **Ok so that's that. Its a good bit longer than what I usually do for a chapter, but I didn't have enough to break it up. This chapter starts about the middle of Dead Man's Blood, and ends around the end of Salvation. Umm... what else. Oh. So I know a Black Dog was already a SPN concept. However, The Barghest part is all me (I just looked up legends and made a few things up, so I'm not taking full credit for a Barghest, just this particular one I guess) I also made up the Black Dog Ritual using a bit of research. Such as Black Dogs originated in Europe and there is a Celtic version, so I used that for the symbols (but I didn't pick one so leave that to imagination I guess) and I also loked at herbs that are bad for dogs. (Pennyroyal, comfrey, and garlic.) Wolfsbane just seemed to make sense. Oh and Four Corners stands for North, South, East, and West, in case anyone didn't know... so that about wraps this up. If you have any questions, feel free to review or PM me. And if you want to use my Ritual or Barghest concept just PM me. I plan on making several different creatures as the story progresses. Keep in mind when it comes to updates, I do a fair bit of research before I even start. Thanks for reading!**_


	4. Devil's Trap and In My Time of Dying

_**So, back again. Taking a week's vacation off of work, and planning to do some writing in this time. However, I'm not sure whether or not anyone is reading this fic. I want very much to write a different kind of fic. But if people don't like it I may just drop it. I have this idea circling for an actual book anyways. But this is something I wanted to try first. So let me know if you are interested. Also, this chapter is going to span across two chapters again. Without further ado.**_

Chapter 4: Devil's Trap, In My Time of Dying

I got my sense of smell back first. Sharp odors infiltrated my nose, burning their way in, til I felt them even in my throat. Then there were the sounds. Rhythmic beeps, hushed voices and something squeaking. The other three senses rushed back in. I tasted my dry mouth and felt the rough cotton against my skin. My mostly bare skin. I opened my eyes to see two people in front of me. Although at first it looked like four. My vision cleared and at the foot of my bed stood a doctor and a cop. I thought back to what I last remembered, and sighed. I'd fought the Barghest, been bitten and passed out. Cops must have picked me up on a B&E and tresspassing. Trying not to draw attention, I listened to them discuss what was going to happen to me. Once deemed fit, I would be released into police custody. So I would have to make my escape very quickly. It was then that men noticed me. The doctor took out a light and flashed it across my eyes. When he was finished I gave him my best angry face. The officer came around the other side of the bed and flipped open a notebook. "I have your name as Karen Jones, is that correct?" I made sure to keep my nod feeble. __"According to this, I also have that you are a criminal psychology student." He flashed the school ID to me. "So you want to tell me, why someone studying to uphold the law, was caught breaking several of them? Right now I have you on breaking and entering, trespassing, and possession of unlicensed weapons. Not to mention the weird occult shit you were doing out there." I gave him a confused look.

"W-where?" I asked, glancing at the doctor 'for help'. He stepped up, or well, around and led the officer out the door, promising to allow him to come back in when I was a little more lucid. In that instant, I took stock of everything. There were cuffs attached to my left wrist and the bed. I checked my left shoulder, wrapped heavily in bandages. It burned like fire. I sat up and reached for the foot of my bed. There was a file there, and I flipped through it. Unknown toxin in the bloodstream? I didn't have the time to deal with that. I sat up, tossing my feet to the side of the bed by my machines. I checked the door to make sure no one was watching, and shut off the heart monitor that was attached to me. I dropped the finger clamp and took a deep breath. My eyes dropped to the IV. I took off all the tape and held my breath, pulling it out. I hated needles. I took the plastic tube off the needle and stuck the needle in the key hole to the cuffs. It was difficult. The needle was flexible and didn't want to move the tumblers. But finally, I was free. I stood, holding the rail until I was steady. It was that moment, when a nurse entered the room to check on me. She frowned and moved to assist me back onto the bed. "I'm really sorry," I tell her. Finally, she noticed the handcuffs. I used my elbow and hit her in the temple hard. She went down like I knew she would. I dragged her into the attached bathroom, and took her scrubs, leaving her with my gown. I ran my fingers through my hair to straighten it, and I walked left my room. Now I just had to get to my car.

*SPN*SPN*SPN*

After leaving the hospital successfully I had walked to the nearest row of houses and broke into a few, until I found clothes that would fit me and not get me noticed. I borrowed a hair brush and a ponytail, and put my hair up, sliding the hair through and situating a hat on my head. Then I left the houses, jogging off like it was just any day. Unfortunately my car was not where I had left it. Which meant it had been impounded. With any luck it hadn't been searched yet. I stopped someone walking near me, and asked where the police station was. One twenty minute walk later and I was back at the hospital. Which was only a few streets away from the Casper Police Department. Where my car was most likely to be. Once I was close, I pulled on the sunglasses I'd had in a pocket, and took a slow walk down the street. There was no impound yard. I watched as the officer from the hospital jumped out of his car and stormed into the building. Guess he had found out I was gone. Having no need to hang around a police station, I walked to the main road. There were few people milling around, and fewer that werent on cell phones. But finally, I watched someone drop a phone into a pocket. I 'bumped' into them, apologizing profusely and made my way down the road. I turned the first corner I could and ran from there til I was a good distance away. I leaned against a wall, and flipped open the phone, opening the browser. I searched Google for impound yards, but nothing came up. So then I looked for tow yards. Only one. Fenominal Towing. And it would be a long walk. So I stole a car. A beat up old thing. The door was open and the key in the visor. Someone wanted it stolen. I pulled out and followed the map til I got to the the yard. It was pretty packed. Finding my car would not be fun. I went down the road, dropped the stolen car, and hiked back to the yard.

For the second largest city in Wyoming, security was very lax. Chained gate, one guard at the front. Probably some dogs. I legged it along the fence, eying the top. Barbed wire. So I'd have to throw something over it since I didn't have any tools on me. I shrugged out of my overshirt and began my climb. I dropped to the other side, with only a few scrapes to show for it. I'd tried to rescue the shirt but it wasn't going to happen. I crouched down behind some cars and pulled out the stolen phone. I dialed the one number I could actually remember. Dean. "Hello?" his voice questioned.

"Dean... it's Cat. I've got a theoretical question. What's the quickest way to find a car in a junk yard?" I asked. He told me he was busy and to jump to the point. I frowned. I could hear Sam talking to someone in the background. "Look, long story short, that hunt last night bought me a ticket to a hospital and a police record. My car got towed and I need it. So, without showing my face, any fast way to find my car?" He replied something about checking near the front since the police wouldn't want to walk far to get to it. I heard the sound of the Impala starting. "Is everything ok?" I questioned. He seemed really angry.

"I don't want to talk about it. I have to go. I'm on my way to Missouri." I sighed and said my goodbyes. Then crept my way to the front of the lot. I found my car in all her beauty. Pretty damn close to what I was certain was the lot owner's trailer. Casting out my prayers I crept around the last cover I had, and bolted to my car. Luck wasn't with me. My car had a parking boot on it. I opened my door, thankful that I'd left it off and the keys in it. I pulled out the lock pick set from my dashboard and got to work on the boot. It only took about a minute to get the boot off. I got back in my car, started it up and began backing up. The owner came running out of the trailer, shotgun in hand. I slammed my foot on the gas, and shot toward the front gate. I rammed the gate. Unlike in movies, the chain didn't break. The fence did. The flimsy fasteners that held the gate to the poles in the ground snapped, and the fence fell to the ground as I drove over it and away. I checked my tank, noting they'd siphoned most of the gas. Cursing my luck, I drove back toward town and down the first quiet street I found. I parked, threw open my trunk, and grabbed a new license plate.

*SPN*SPN*SPN*

Its evening now. After filling up in Casper, I'd jetted off. I drove 5 hours and 43 minutes, stopping off in a city called Murdo over in South Dakota. I'd pulled into a parking lot with a sign that read The Diner. Once inside, I found a seat and read the menu on the table. After waiting for my meal, I ate and headed back to the Super 8 up the road. I rented myself a room, and got settled. I knew I couldn't stick around long, but I needed a shower, my own clothes, and a nap. I emerged from the shower, and flopped onto the bed. I woke from my nap and it was 3a.m. Digging through my bags, I pulled out my laptop to plot my next move. I needed to get at least a few more cities away. Pulling up Google Maps on the Super 8's crappy wifi, I checked out the surrounding cities. I was still too tired to go far. Maybe a few hours at most drive time. Then I needed a good 8 hours rest and to be on my way. I found a small, out of the way town. Lake Andes. I packed up my stuff and checked my cash. I was definitely running low now. I'd had at least half of my money with me at the hospital. Tossing my bags into the backseat of my car, I checked out and set off.

It had been 18 hours since I stopped in Lake Andes. I'd been searching for cases and resting up. I'd resorted to one of the credit cards I kept for emergencies. Minimal expenses. Microwave food, broke person living. It would be a while before I could go somewhere to make money. And a long drive in the opposite direction. Tossing my stuff in my bags, I loaded them up into the trunk, and turned out of the parking lot, heading West. My phone began to ring in my purse. I opened it, answering without looking. Few people had that number. "Its Cat," I said. There was a moment's static on the line.

"Cat, its Sam," I finally heard. "Look, can you come meet me? I don't know if you're working on a case or anything, but... it's really important." I nodded, before remembering I was on the phone, I gave him an affirmative, and he gave me an address. I punched it into the dashboard GPS on my car. I pulled over. The address was a hospital in Missouri. Following the directions, I turned around, put the gas pedal to the floor, and shot off.

 _ **So... I really meant to get some face-to-face this episode in this chapter. But it ran on for so long, and then I really didn't want to start the next part and just stop. So, extremely boring chapter of being on the run, but rest assured, I am immediately starting the next chapter upon posting this. And the next one mushes with an episode instead of going along it at a distance. Yay Col-chester interactions!(Col-chester being my little name mash up.)**_


	5. In My Time of Dying

_**And now I start with Chapter 5. For sure face-to-face in this chapter. Not much note to write. Onward.**_

Chapter 5: In My Time of Dying

I turn into a parking space, and call Sam. It wasn't long before he met me at my car. I wasn't surprised to see him looking a little beat up. But I wasn't expecting him to grab my keys and open my trunk, searching it. I stared, dumbfounded. It's evening, but my trunk lights up what he grabs. A Ouija board. "Seriously?" I questioned, "You had me drive all this way for my Ouija board?" He barely spares me a glance, pulling out a brown paper bag and dropping the box in it. I close my ransacked trunk and follow him, half jogging to keep up with his long strides. We arrive in a room and I freeze at the site. Dean is in the bed, wires and tubes running from his body to machines and the IV stands.

"Hey. I think maybe you're around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but um, well, there's one way we can talk." Sam says, pulling the box out of the bag. I step into the room, closing the door. We go around the bed, and sit on the floor. Sam sets up the board, sitting cross legged, and I lean against the foot of Dean's bed, knees drawn up to my chin. "Dean? Dean, are you here?" I watched the board nervously. After a few seconds wait, Sam's fingers and the pointer slowly slid to yes. Sam gives a short laugh of relief and my breath rushes from my lungs. I turn and rise to my knees, looking at Dean in his bed. "It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." My eyes water. I was never very good with death. Especially when it came to people I knew. Hunting was my way of preventing deaths. Its how I kept on. "Dean, what? H? U? Hunt? Hunting? What, are you hunting?" I turned back around at that. My eyes skimmed the room, and I looked at the door. I didn't have anything with me in the hospital. Nothing to deal with a hunt. I zoned out, wondering what made a hospital it's feeding ground. Thinking of lore. Then I heard Sam say Reaper. I focused back on the board, on their conversation. Then Sam left to talk to their dad. I glanced at Dean's end of the board. I slid over and placed my fingers on the pointer.

"Hi Dean," I said. The pointer slid to the letters H and I. I chuckled nervously. "Does it hurt?" I question. The pointer moves to NO. I gave a little nod, relieved. The pointer slid to the letters C, A, and R. I laughed. "Mine? I got it out of the lot. Hood's a little dinged up but it'll hammer out. Yours... I don't know. I don't even really know what happened to you guys. Sam called me and I came. Turns out he just needed my Ouija board." I babbled. "Wait, what DID happen?" The pointer moved again. Eventually it spelled out car crash. I bit my lip. The Impala was more than likely done for then. I was not telling that to a dying man. Not a car lover. I searched for something else to talk about. "So is your dad a hunter too?" The answer was yes. So, a family business then. I'd noticed the pointer slowing down. Dean must have been getting tired. From what I knew of spirits, it took energy to move objects. I sighed, "I'm gonna put this up for now." I told him. I grabbed the pointer and board, putting them in the box and the box in the bag. I sat in the chair by Dean's bed, waiting for Sam to return.

Same comes back a bit later, holding their dad's journal. "Hey. So Dad wasn't in his room." he said to Dean's unconscious form. "But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here." He starts going through the journal, and I excuse myself from the room. The bathroom was calling. Since I was out, after relieving myself, I went out to my car, and pulled a few of my lore books I thought might help. I tossed them into a big purse, and headed back up to Dean's room. Sam looked up, smiling gratefully when I showed him, and we sat down to research. After a while, books exhausted, I slouched in my chair to take a nap. But I heard Sam speak, "Dean, are you here? I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting. I mean, come on you can't, you can't leave me here alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that.  
Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again. Can you hear me?" I couldn't help but feel like my presence was wrong. Like I shouldn't be there. They were a family, were grieving. And here I was. Intruding. I fell asleep.

I awaken to shouting. I jump from my chair, to see Dean choking, his eyes open. People rush into the room to remove the tube from his throat. Then they take him away for tests. Sam hugs me, and I hug him back. It was truly a relief to see Dean wake up. Now that everything was going to be ok, maybe it was time that I found myself another case. Left them alone to do whatever they do. Sam released me, and I loaded my phone's internet, and got to work. After a while, they brought Dean back, and I paused to talk to him for a while, sitting on the edge of his bed and joking about my own hospital experience. The doctor came back with his lab results and Dean thanked him. Sam and Dean talked, and watched. An older man with dark hair pops in. Their dad, judging by the bandages. He dismisses Sam. After a beat, he looks at me. "Who are you?" he asks. I blink at him, dumbfounded. His tone read pure judgement. He definitely didn't think I belonged there.

"Her name's Cat," Dean replied for me. I had a short stare down with his father, to which I lost. I stood up, grabbing my purse. For sure now, it was time for me to leave. Dean grabs my wrist. "Hey... thanks for coming. You didn't have to," he said. I smiled.

"Of course I did. That's what friends are for. Anytime Dean, I mean it." I left the hospital room, and head down to say my goodbyes to Sam. I gave him a hug, wished him luck, and headed out to my car. Debating on it for a little while, I finally just decided to sleep in my car, leaning the seat down, and dropping a black t-shirt from my backseat over my eyes. A while later, there's a tapping on my window, I sit up and the shirt falls away. Sam is standing there. His face... he looked like someone shot his puppy. I open my door, and he moves out of my way.

"I was-" he started. "I was out talking a walk and I saw you were still here." he stated. I leaned back against my door. He does too, crossing his arms and staring off. "Dad... he, uh, he died." Sam finally stated, after a bit. I reached over and rubbed his back quietly. I wasn't sure what else to do. "We're gonna give him a hunter's burial. Dean's trying to get them to release his body to us."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask. Sam nodds.

"We could use a ride. Dean's car's in a junk yard in Sioux Falls. After we bury dad, he'll want to go there." I nod.

*SPN*SPN*SPN*

I'd watched from the car as they lit the funeral pyre. Then I'd driven them to this junk yard. It belonged to one of their family friends. When I pulled in, the man had come out of his door, holding a shotgun. Sam raised his hand out the window and waved. Dean was in my back seat, brooding. We all got out, and Dean went off to find his car. Sam and I followed the man into his house. What must have been a nice house originally, was filled with books and dust. The man offered us beer. Sam agreed, and I passed. They both looked at me strangely, and I avoided their gaze. I hate beer. I looked around the kitchen, and saw a line of phones, labeled various things, like FBI and CDC. I turned to Sam. "So he's one of the guys you were telling me about? Helping hunters out?" The man looked at Sam, then back to me. He held out a hand. "Bobby Singer," he introduced. I took his hand.

"Cat Collins," I supplied. "You could use some organization," I noted. I watched as his eyes narrowed, and he glanced around the house, then back to me. Embarrassed, my gaze dropped to the ground. "So... got any food? I can make everyone some dinner?" This time he laughed outright. "Well then... I'll be back later. Gimme a call if something comes up Sam." I headed out the door and to my car. Before I got in, I could hear the sound of a hammer against metal. Dean must already be working on the Impala. I left the salvage yard and headed into town. I pulled into the grocery store and set to work shopping. I'm not the best cook, but I figured the brothers could use a decent meal. Then I was most definitely heading west. It couldn't wait any longer.

I pulled back into the salvage yard about an hour later, and Sam came out to help me bring in the food. I put most of it away, and left out what I needed for dinner that night. I cleaned off the counters and did the dishes, then got started. Thirty minutes later, I turned off the stove and took the pots to the table. I'd set it for four, but the way Dean had been acting since his dad died, I didn't really expect him to come eat. But I went out to fetch him anyways. "Hey," I called out, hands behind my back. He gave a short nod, before going back to work. "I made dinner. It's not anything spectacular, but its a real meal. I know that doesn't happen often for us in our line of work. Thought you might want to come in." I said. He seemed to contemplate it a bit, but went back to work. "I'll just make sure they save you some then." When I got back inside, Bobby and Sam already had plates full of spaghetti and garlic bread. I'd been sure to make a lot, so there would be enough for a whole other meal. I sat down to eat. Bobby looked out the door, set his fork down, and went outside. I couldn't quite understand what Bobby was yelling at Dean, but not minutes later, and they were walking through the door and sitting down to eat. No one said anything while they ate, and when everyone was done, I put it all away. Dean went back out to his car, beer in hand, and Bobby and Sam went back to the living room to continue whatever discussion they'd been having. After a while, I took Dean out another beer. He was under his car, and reaching for a tool just out of reach. I nudged it to him with my foot, and crouched down. After doing whatever it was he'd been doing, he scooted out from under the car. He sat up and took the beer from my hands gratefully.

"What?" he asks after a moment. There must have been some kind of expression on my face.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving. Found a case, and there isn't much good I can do here. I only know a little about fixing cars, and you look like you don't want help. Bobby's already given me the stink eye for offering to clean his house, and Sam's in there talking to Bobby about things that don't include me. I want to stay, if only just to make sure you guys are actually taking advantage of the fact that you have a stove available, but with you guys out of the game for a bit til the car's fixed, someone's got to be out there killing the baddies," I tell him. He takes another drink of his beer.

"You don't have to justify leaving Cat," he tells me. "I didn't expect you to stay as long as you have. You don't even really know us." he finishes. I scoff, standing, brushing off the dust that had settled on my pants legs.

"You don't have to 'really' know someone to call them a friend. And to understand what it's like to lose someone. I haven't had parents in a long time Dean. I'll see you around. Don't be a stranger. And if there's ever anything I can do... give me a call. Anytime," I say. I stalk back into the house. Typical hurt feelings, push away the people who show you kindness. I grab my purse off the couch, and Sam stands up.

"Where are you going?" he asks, concern on his puppy face. I smiled at him and gave him a hug.

"I found a case, I'm gonna head out. Keep in contact ok?" He gave me a nod. I gave Bobby my phone number. "If you ever need someone to fix this mess, you let me know ok?" his eyes narrowed and this time I laughed. "It was a joke Mr. Singer. But if you catch wind of any cases, put me on your call list or whatever it is you do. I'm not exactly great at finding them myself." I laughed. Then I left.

 _ **So a little shorter than chapter 3 still. I'd love to try and have them at that length more often. But my creativity is a little low. Between finishing the one last night and doing this one between last night and today. Yay for days off and time to focus I guess. Please review.(I would also like to add that this would have been up last night, if FF hadn't been popping me a 503 error code til now. My apologies. I had wanted to do them closer together because of the content of last chapter.)  
**_


	6. Bloodlust

_**So lots of favs and follows. That's really awesome! I do hope some of you decide to review down the road! Sorry it's taken so long to post another chapter. My sister's been using the desktop a lot for her story Water Dragon Roar, and none of the laptops really function right now. They all need to go to 'the Guy' lol. Had a bit of a hard time choosing an episode by the way, and an even harder time pumping this out but here it is.**_

Chapter 6: Bloodlust

I wake up in my motel room, yawning and stretching. I get up and walk over to the coffee maker in the room. I started the pot and turned to the table. I opened my laptop and checked out the information I'd gathered the previous night. After hours deaths at the local ice rink. Reports of a strange flickering image. I figured a ghost hunt would be a nice break. Especially because of the last hunt. But I was back from out west and ready to ease back in. Bobby had given me the case actually. He told me he usually did the cases closer to home, but that if I really wanted a salt and burn that I could have it. He had given me the location, but the hunt had just popped up on whatever radar/ method he used. So I was gathering information.

So far, I hadn't gotten much. I'd just arrived the night before, so I'd pulled up the news articles of the deaths, this obituaries from the ones that had already been buried, and some information about the rink. Odde Ice Arena. The area was surrounded by fields and campgrounds. I planned to visit the rink today. I heard the drip of the coffee brewer slow and stop and I got up to grab some. Lots of sugar and powdered creamer went in, and the coffee came back with me to the table. I sipped slowly and searched for deaths and disappearances in the area. I came up with a couple of good candidates and got up to get dressed. I tossed my night clothes on the bed, and grabbed my purse. I drank the last of my cup of coffee and set the mug on the counter. Then I left.

I made the drive to the ice rink listening to whatever was on the radio. I drove around the grounds, noticing the various 'barns' around. Bunnies, sheep, beef, and kiddy. So food and children. I scoffed at the easy insinuation and puled into the lot of the rink. I stepped out of my car, and switched from flats to heels. I took a deep breath, adjusted my new black skirt suit and went inside. I was approached by an officer. Only slightly surprised, I held up my new badge. "I'm Agent Adams, with the FBI," I told him. "I'm here to aid in your investigation to the deaths here." I finished.

"What's the FBI got to do with a couple of deaths in Aberneen, South Dakota?" I took another deep breath, and came up with a cover story.

"We have reason to believe the death's here are in connection with some similar cases in another state. We can do this the easy way, and you assist me and I let you take lead, or we can do this the hard way, and I will commandeer your investigation. I do have jurisdiction." I say, placing my hands behind my back to hide the shaking. I stood tall. The officer narrowed his eyes at me.

"I'm gonna need to speak to your supervisor," he said. I was fearful I'd come on too strong. I managed to keep my face straight, pulled out a cell phone and handed it and a business card to the officer. He dialed the number on the card, and had a short conversation with Bobby. He handed them both back to me, I put them away in the suit coat and followed as he waved me back. I was in time to see them zipping up the body. The skin was grayed out and her lips blue. The coroner on scene met the officer's eyes.

"Preliminary cause of death, asphyxiation." the officer glanced at me and I nodded like I'd expected as much. They wheeled the body out and the officer walked over to a person wrapped in a blanket sitting on a bench. They were talking to another officer who was taking notes.

" - and then it got really cold in here. Like really cold. And then there was this lady, gliding over the ice at us. And she wrapped her hands a- " the girl broke off sobbing. After a pause, the officer with me asked her to describe the lady. "She looked kind of gray. And fuzzy at the edges you know? She was wearing skating gear. But her shirt had like blood or something on it. Oh, and she was hurt. Like a cut on her head or something." she described. At that, we finished with her and headed outside to let the other do their job. I started off towards my car. The officer called out to me.

"I'll be in touch, I need to make a call," I told him. Then got in. I left the parking lot and headed back to my motel. I tossed my badge in the glove box and went inside. From the description, there were two possible ghosts. I was going go back at dark and verify. Then it was a matter of finding the body, and getting rid of the ghost. I don't have the stamina to dig two graves, and I definitely wouldn't have the time to do both that evening. I changed into some comfortable clothes, and laid in the bed to take a short nap.

I awoke a few hours later and headed over to the closest gas station. I grabbed a can of soup from a shelf for dinner and paid, then returned to the motel. After eating, I glanced at my phone. I debated texting Dean, but decided against it. If he wanted to talk, he would. I sighed, bored. Evening rolled around, and I pulled on dark clothing to blend in with the night. I drove to the ice rink, and broke in. I put on skates, and began to glide across the ice, flashlight in one hand, and sawed off shotgun with salt rounds in another. It was a long while, before the ghost appeared. 'A cut to the head' was an understatement. There was a huge gash across her ghostly face. She was wearing tight fitting skating clothing, and it looked like retail, rather than designer. With that information, I began skating back to the entrance, leery of the skating ghost. As my foot left the ice for the rough carpet, a wail drew my attention behind me. The ghost was speeding towards me hands extended, grasping for me. I lifted my shotgun, and fired, then kicked off the ice skates. I turned and bolted towards where I'd left my shoes and bag, turning once more to disperse the ghost before I made it. I had enough to ID her, now I needed to find her bones. I left hurriedly, closing the door firmly behind me and leaving.

I arrived at my room shortly after and tossed my stuff by the table. I booted up my computer and checked my short list of potentials. "Gotcha," I muttered to myself. Alyssa Corrigon. Disappeared 2 years ago from the ice rink, body never found. And I was willing to bet, that her body was somewhere on that lot. Because, nothing would make my night better than an unmarked grave. I had two options, search for it myself, or find who killed her. I made a list of all of her known associates, and flopped into bed.

The next day, I talked to all of the girls petty friends. Seemed like the girl was living a bit of a lie. Her friends were swanky brats. She was pretending to be like them. My guess was one of them was responsible. I decided to lean on them. Girls like that traveled in groups, and one of them was bound to break. It took a while, but one of them did. They told me about how Alyssa had been fighting with 'Steph' for 'like an hour' at the rink, when Alyssa said something extremely rude and 'Steph lost it and threw her skate at her.' The group then cleaned up, drug the body to an unused section of the closest campground and spent hours digging and burying her. "Now show me where it is." I told her. She nodded, and we left. She showed me the spot, and seeming as it was an unused section, I got to work digging. She began to freak out and I quickly sent her back to my car. I made quick work of the grave, or as quick of work as I could by myself, and did the salt and burn. I left the body uncovered, and returned to the car.

"Aren't you going to cover it back up?" she asked. I told her no, explaining that the body needed to be found so her family could have closure. I dropped her off, and returned to the motel room to pack. I called Bobby, to let him know I'd finished the case, and put my bags in the trunk of the car. Looking at my phone again, I called Sam.

"Hey how's it going?" I asked when he answered. He told me about the latest case, vampires, and how they'd let them leave because they weren't feeding on humans. I laughed and told him he'd have to tell me more for my journals the next time we met.

"So where you headed next?" he asks me after I told him about my case. I paused, unsure. "You said you were in South Dakota... we're on our way back to Bobby's. Dean had to hotwire the Impala, so he wants to replace the wiring." I smiled. I told him I wasn't sure I was welcome to Dean. Sam told me I should come anyways. Destination in mind, I hung up and headed for Sioux Falls.

A while later, I reach the town and stop for groceries. I pull into the salvage yard and unload my groceries. Bobby looked appreciative whenever I started dinner, and he told me the boys would be another hour out. I finished with about 15 minutes til their expected arrival time, and took it all to the table. Pork chops, mashed potatoes (the real kind), corn, and some alfredo pasta stuff that came in a bag. I set out plates and such, and started cleaning up my mess while I waited. The boys came through the door, greeting Bobby loudly. I pulled a few beers out of the fridge, and set them by the plates, opting for a big glass of water for myself. They came into the kitchen. Sam gave me a hug, and Dean just stared at me for a moment, before sitting down at the table. We ate in a slightly uncomfortable silence, and then I did the dishes. The men had all retired to the living room, something loud playing on Bobby's tv. I joined them when I was finished, and sat down in a chair in front of a pile of books. I picked one up, paging through it.

After about an hour or two, I needed to stretch, so I went outside. I leaned against the side of the house, and just breathed the night air, listening to the sounds of the crickets. I heard the door open and close and Dean joined me seconds later. I stayed quiet, waiting to see what he wanted. "So... about last time," he said, and I turned to face him. "I was angry. I didn't mean to be rude." he finished.

"I was intruding on something deeply personal. I know. But Sam had asked for my help, and I stuck around to make sure you were going to be ok before I left. I'm sorry if I upset you, and I'm sorry I stayed so long," I told him. He stayed silent for a bit, and I thought maybe he was going to just accept me taking fault. Which was fine with me.

"I still shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You didn't deserve it," he said. We stayed out in a companionable silence and watched the stars. Or at least I did anyways. I smiled after a bit and bade him goodnight, heading up to one of the spare bedrooms.

 _ **So... finally here it is. I would like to say, that during part of writing this chapter, I was being tortured by my sister's cat.**_


	7. Croatoan

_**So I know my update times are bad. But any input at this point is way more than welcome. I'd decided to go away from OC's in my stories, but this idea drug me back. OC's in my opinion tend to complicate the story and I'm trying very hard to keep mine separate for the most part at the moment. I don't know if that's killing my story or not. Anyone with ideas or hunt suggestions please help! And don't worry about suggesting a monster that hasn't been in the show yet, I plan on doing lots of that here.**_

 _ **Since I plan on using dialogue from an episode, Disclaimer! I don't own this show, the characters, their words, or even any supernatural merchandise (sadly). The only thing I own is My character, the words I give her, and my own hunts unrelated to the storyline. Thank you.**_

Chapter 7: Croatoan

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in the robe provided by the hotel I was in. My phone was ringing and I raced into the bedroom portion to retrieve it. It was Sam. "Hey what's up Sam?" I asked, stepping back into the bathroom. I put my phone on speaker and set it on the counter, and grabbing a towel for my hair. He gave some passive retort and asked what I'd been up to. "Just finished up with a stupid witch hunt. Ugh. It took four washes to get that crap out of my hair. And I'm not even sure its gone yet," I told him. He laughed, but I was really inspecting my hair, piecing through it. Witches and spewing their bodily fluids.

"Listen... is it alright to ask you to come down and give us a hand with something?" he asked. I gave my assent. "Dean doesn't know about me asking, its just.. I had one of my visions. He was killing someone in cold blood." Sam told me, trailing off. I wasn't sure why he needed me, and I told him that. "I just think having another voice of reason around is a good idea." he told me. He gave me the name of the town they were heading to themselves.

"Its gonna take me a while to get there. I'm in Winnemucca, Nevada. I'll leave as soon as I'm packed, and I'll get there asap. I'll see you soon." I told him. I hung up, and dropped the robe on the tiled floor, and threw on a tank top, jeans, and a t-shirt from some town I'd been in. I'd grabbed it after the shirt I'd been wearing got covered in blood. I threw everything else in my bag, including the hotel towel and robe as an afterthought, as well as the provided toiletries, and I was out the door. I checked out, smiling at the man behind the counter, flirting til he refunded me the rest of my planned stay. Then I left, heading for the closest interstate.

I'd just crossed into Oregan when I stopped for gas. I tried calling Sam a few times, but his phone kept going straight to voicemail. Concerned, I finished, and got back on the road, I completely ignored the speed limit whenever I could. I arrived a while later. I drove through the town slowly. It was way too quiet. No one on the streets anywhere, in broad daylight. I saw the Impala pulled into what looked like some sort of doctor's office. I pulled in beside them, and got out. I grabbed my gun from the glove compartment, hid it in the back of my jeans and went inside. Dean was leaving as I came in. He tilted his head at me, pointed his thumb behind him and went out the door. I stepped back into a room, where there was a woman with a stab wound, two doctors, and Sam. The women gave me a weird look, and Sam pulled me out by my upper arm. In hushed tones, he explained what happened, and where Dean went. I nodded. We went back into the room.

"Who are you?" asked one of the blonde women. The younger of the three. I glanced at Sam, wondering who I would be today. He seemed at a loss for a moment, then tossed his long arm over my shoulders.

"This is my girlfriend Sarah," he said. I froze for a second, then held back my laughter. "I'd called her on the way here. We just live a few hours away from here." he said.

"When he's not out on assignment," I added, making sure my voice sounded very disproving. I wrapped my arm around his lower back, curling into him to sell it. He and I would be having a talk when this was through. After a good minute or so, I separated from him, and began to look around the building we were in. Its not that I was paranoid. It was just that I liked to be prepared. And no better time to prepare than when things were quiet. I walked back in, to a conversation between Sam and the older blonde. Dr. Lee according to her name tag.

"-And besides, I've never heard of one that did this to the blood." My eyes narrowed, as I realized they had to be talking about some kind of sickness. I heard Sam ask what, and I noticed his posture when she answered "There's this...weird residue. If I didn't know better I'd say it was sulfur." Sam repeated the word sulfur, then turned to me. He stepped away, and we were back out in the hallway.

"We haven't told you much about demons have we?" he asked. I met his eyes. "They tend to leave behind sulfur wherever they go. The fact that its in Mr. Tanner's blood... I think its some kind of demonic virus." he said. I pursed my lips, thinking. That couldn't be good. And viruses spread. I certainly did not plan on getting demon virus.

"So what's the plan?" I ask, thinking of my nice cozy car and the open road. I would never just leave them, but the thought was tempting. Having zoned out, I almost missed him saying we would wait for Dean to return and figure it out from there. He left me there to think, and I leaned against the wall. I heard voices in the other room, as the doctor reported her findings to Mrs. Tanner. Suddenly I hear screaming, and I turn the corner to see Mrs. Tanner toss Sam against a glass cabinet. As I was behind her, I step forward and slam my foot into the back of her knee, and it collapses, going to the ground. She turns to face me, and I slam my fist into her face. As if she were batting a fly, she hits me in the stomach and I fly out through the door and hit the wall in the hallway. I see stars as my head smacks the wall, but I scramble to my feet dizzily, and to the doorway, in time to see Sam hit her with a fire extinguisher. I clutch the door frame for support, and Sam grabs my arm to help me sit. I knew the spinning would stop soon, so I waved my hand to indicate Mrs. Tanner. "What're we gonna do with her?" I ask, my voice slurring just a little.

After a while, I feel back to normal, and I listen to the younger girl, Pam, freaking out. She rushes out the door, and Sam follows her. I hear a car pull up, and I follow them out to the hallway. I pull out my handgun, which Sam immediately confiscates, and we see Dean and someone else approach the doors. Sam opens the door, then hands me back my gun. They talk for a minute and Pam and the other man step away, heading for Dr. Lee's office. Sam looks back to check on me as he asks Dean what's going on. I listen in as they discuss what happened out there, and Sam recaps what happened with us. Then we hear 'Sarge' shouting about Mrs. Tanner. Sam and I follow Dean as he steps into the next room. "We gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Dean pulls his gun, and stalks into the lab. I stay in the lab while Sam, Dean, and 'Sarge' step into the room we put Beverly in. I hear her pleading, and then the sound of Dean's gun going off twice.

~Later~

It was night now. Dean, Sam, Mark, and I had gone out to the cars to grab all the weapons we could handle around dusk. Now, there were people...infected, standing around outside. Waiting for something. Us to come out, try to leave, or some unseen signal, I have no idea, but I knew I needed to be ready. I had my handgun in the back of my jeans, machete hanging off a belt, and a sawed off shotgun in hand. Suddenly, Pam drops a vial of blood and begins freaking out. I looked at her quickly, and saw that she didn't have any on her. I looked back out my window, and noticed there was still no real movement outside. I heard discussion of bombs, and perked up. I headed over to Sam, who grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride off a shelf. "Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!" The men rush out, and I continue to pull the chemicals off the shelf. They return with someone else in tow. A younger guy, bleeding from a leg wound. Lee heads over to check out the new comer as Mark asks him where he'd been. "On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I . . . I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?" he asks. Everyone looks away, as I hear Dean say awkward. Lee notices the gash on his leg, and quickly after, he's tied up. I step out with Sam and Dean, after receiving a very pointed look from Sam. This must be it. The vision. My suspicions were confirmed when that was the first thing out of Sam's mouth after we gotten out of earshot. They begin to argue. Sam insists that we should wait.

"For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." I step in, putting my hand on his arm, which he immediately shakes off.

"Dean, with the three of us, I'm sure we can handle one infected guy. Sam and I got Beverly down just fine," I said. He glared at me, for siding with Sam.

"Yea, and then you two bleeding hearts locked her up, to risk her hurting someone else! Someone around here has to get things done." He starts to push past Sam who stops him with a hand to his chest. "Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that." I pushed past the both of them, tossing a disappointed look over my shoulder. Dean and my eyes met, and his expression changed, for a barely noticeable second. I shut the door behind me, and went back into the room with the doctor, and Duane. After a few tense minutes, Dean walks in, gun in hand. It was everyone in the room's turn to discourage Dean, and I turned away, hand covering my mouth. I couldn't just watch my friend kill someone in cold blood. I shouldn't have come back in here. Shouldn't have come at all in the first place. Nothing I said or did made a difference. Me being here wasn't the change Sam needed. I waited. "Damn it!" I hear Dean say, before I hear him leave the room. I dash out after him. He turns to face me a bit down he hallway. "What?!" he asks harshly. I recoil just a bit. Now wasn't the time to ask him what changed his mind, or to tell him I was glad he did. I knew that.

"I just..." I trailed off. I struggled with what to say for a bit, and I looked up into his eyes. I bit my lip, stopping the involuntary step forward that I'd started to take. I looked at the wall beside us, letting out a slow breath. "I just needed to know what the plan was now." I started to turn away, and his hand grabbed my wrist. We both stared at his hand for a minute, and then he let go. I returned to the lab.

~Later~

I was silently helping the boys prepare explosives with rags and glass bottles. Dr. Lee entered, informing us it had been four hours. She asks to untie Duane, and Sam allows it. He looks to Dean. "You know I'm gonna ask you why." he says. Dean gives an affirmative answer. "So why? Why didn't you do it?" he asked.

"We need more alcohol," was Dean's reply. Sam gets up to get it. Dean looks to me. "You gonna ask too?" I shook my head, and stretched a bit, popping my neck where it was sore from looking down. We heard fight sounds, and Dean stood up arming himself. Mark followed. I took hesitant steps after them, flinching as I heard three shots. I ran to catch up. Only to find out Sam was infected. A while later, in the lab and Dean paced angrily across the floor. Mark was calling for Sam's death, and even I was starting to get angry. Duane gets upset and points out that Dean was going to shoot him. Dean replies something about shutting his pie-hole at the same time I call out "Yea, and I think I might." Duane looked fearfully between us, shutting up. Another few seconds of debate, and Mark pulls out his gun. Dean steps forward, but I already have my gun out, safety off, and pointing at Mark's back.

"Then what are we supposed to do?!" Mark explains. Dean tosses Mark the Impala keys, telling him to leave. And take the doctor, Duane and me with him. "What about you?" Sam pleads for Dean to leave too, and Dean retorts something about getting rid of him that easily. I scoff.

"Yea, and I'm not leaving either. You're both stupid if you think so." I walk up to them, and smack them both on the arms for trying to get rid of me. I glared at Sam. "You asked me to come, and I'm staying." After a pause, Mark and the doctor say goodbye, and Dean informs her that they weren't actually Marshals. Dean shuts the door behind her, and Sam starts to cry. Dean makes a joke, and I hug Sam. Sam continues to beg for us to leave.

"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it." I step away backing into a corner. This was yet another personal moment I was invading. I did my best to ignore them and then there's a knock on the door. Dean picks up both his and Sam's handguns and crosses to the door. It was Dr. Lee. We followed her out, to where it was deathly silent.

"There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just . . . vanished." she says. We go back in.

~The next morning~

Dr. Lee checks Sam's blood one last time. His blood was still clean. I breathed a sigh of relief. After a bit of discussion where she discovers the virus gone from the Tanner samples, everyone relaxes. I take a brief nap, preparing for the car ride to... wherever was next. I wake up to Mark and Duane loading a truck. I join the boys by our cars in time to see Mark wave to us. After a short conversation about the virus and where everyone went, we got in our cars, and I followed them out of town. I was about to turn off somewhere, no destination in mind, but I got a call from Sam telling me to stick around for a bit. We'd all grab dinner later. So I stuck with them.

~SPN~

The next day, we're hanging out on the side of the road, looking out at the river. They are drinking beer, and I have a bottle of water. Sam gives Dean the emotional face, the one that tells me that there's going to be more personal moments, so I hop off the hood of my car, "I'm gonna head out. Places to be, evil crap to kill. Journals to update. That kind of thing. I may even head to Bobby's for a bit. Borrow his library if there's a lull in the monster business." I inform them. I give them both good long hugs, and enjoy the heat of Dean's hands on my lower back more than I'd like to admit. I jumped in my car, and drive off.

 _ **So another chapter. Probably gonna do disclaimers like that every time I do an episode with them like this chapter. At least until that becomes regular. Figured this was another good episode where I could work Cat in. Let me know of any ideas guys.**_


	8. Nightshifter

_**Hello back again for another installment. Again, I'd like to stress how much I'd love some input as to the kinds of things you want to see in this story.**_

Chapter 8: Nightshifter

I pulled into the Lake Claiborne State Park. I signed in for a camping outing for the weekend. I drove down as far as I could, and parked my car. I locked it, then opened the trunk. I pulled my camping backpack from the very back. Inside the backpack was a few camping cookware items, and other necessities like camp food. Tied to the bottom was a sleeping bag. I clipped my machete sheath to the side. I pulled my one person tent bag out and tossed it over my right shoulder. My normal backpack, I filled with an assortment of weapons. There were guns with different types of ammo, knives made of different metals. The usual lighter, and tin of iodized salt. My notebook went in with a pen, and a flashlight. I glanced at the remaining contents of my trunk. There wasn't anything else I thought I REALLY needed. But I couldn't be sure.

I'd scrounged up the case myself. A bunch of mysterious drownings. A couple people reporting that their friend was 'grabbed by a monster.' Enough that I decided to check it out. So I'd driven to Louisiana. Nervously, I dropped the lid of the trunk, making sure it was closed tight. I double checked everything was locked, and I'd even taken out the spark plugs to my car. I hated to leave it behind for however long it was going to take. I checked my cell phone battery to make sure it was full, and headed for the lake. The spot where the campers were disappearing was a good long hike and I regretted the fact that I was carrying so much by myself.

After at least an hour, hour and a half of walking, and I'd made it to the spot. There were remnants of a fire, and a worn down spot where there'd been tents pitched. I set my bags down and went about setting up my camp. I started a fire, pitched the tent and rolled out my sleeping bag. I sat cross-legged by the fire, and ate a granola bar from my food supply. It wasn't really time to cook, but I needed something after the hike. I took a small drink of water from my gallon, and then walked to the shoreline. I watched the lake for a good long while.

I cook and eat dinner just before night falls, then I open my hunt bag. I set it just inside my tent, making sure I was within reach. Nothing came for me that night. There was a moment, when I saw the water rippling strangely, but when I went to investigate bag in hand, there was nothing.

The next morning, I made a quick campfire breakfast, and I decided to go for a swim. I took a simple steel knife with me, held between my teeth while I got to a good spot to just float. I stayed in the water for a while enjoying the gentle waves. When it was apparent I wasn't going to be attacked, I got out, and dried off with a stolen hotel towel. I changed clothes, and sat by my fire again, keeping it alive. I flipped open my phone, bored. I saw a message from Dean. ' **What are you up to?'** I smiled and typed back a response.

 **'Strange lake monster. Must be intelligent. No sign of it.'** I closed the phone to save on the battery, and leaned back, intentionally relaxing my posture. I saw the weird ripples again, but made no move to check it out. The water settled. My phone chimed with a message.

 **'Any idea what it is?'** I replied back a negative, as the water ripples. Narrowing my eyes at the lake, which again settles as I look at it. Whatever it was, it wanted to suprise me. I dragged my hunt bag to my side, and looked down at my phone, staying alert. **'I guess just text me back whenever you're done with the hunt.'** I thought, or rather overanalysed, about his comment. I put that aside, as I saw from the corner of my eye, the bubbling coming nearer. I slid my hand into the bag, and grabbed hold of the first thing my fingers touched. With the other hand, I typed back a response.

 **'I will let you know first thing. Might be done soon really.'** I got my first glimpse of the monster. The first think I could see, was a dark wet nose. It reminded me of an alligator, or crocodile. But it was covered in either dark fur, or maybe feathers. It's eyes gleamed in the firelight. It had 6 limbs. Two clawed feet, followed by flippers, followed by more feet. The creature had to be at least 8 feet long.

I waited till it was a little further on land, hoping it was slower on land than on water. Then I turned and ran at it. It wasn't like anything I'd ever seen, but I was determined to kill it now and research later. Unless I couldn't, in which case, I may end up being drowned by the thing. It reared up to stand on its back legs, and I nearly hesitated. But I plunged my iron dagger into its chest. It barely even flinched, and I pulled the dagger with me as I got out of range of its arms. I backstepped to my backpack, picking it up and grabbing something else, dropping the knife on the ground. I took my silver throwing knife, and made a clean toss to the face. It growled, using a foreleg to knock the blade from its skin and to the ground. Next I pulled my sawed off, pre-loaded with salt rounds. That didn't phase it either, although the impact slowed its advance for a second. I was running out of weapon options, so I grabbed my copper dagger. Not many things were allergic to copper, and it was a long shot to have brought it. I ran forward again, dagger held firmly. Its forelegs tried to come around me, so I slashed them. The feathered skin seemed to sizzle and burn. It roared in anger, and grabbed me anyways. It's grip was strong, and it turned toward the water, waddling back into the water. It fell forward, holding my tightly as I struggled to get my arms up, or make progress with the dagger. I found the function of the flippers, which served to quickly propel it through the water. I took a deep breathe as we went under. I managed to work the dagger around in my hands, and pushed it into its belly. Its arms released me, and I wanted to get air but I had to finish it. I grabbed hold of its flipper to keep me under, and brought the knife up to its chest. It was obviously in survival mode as it began to frantically kick at me. I got the knife in and, slowly, it stopped moving. I kicked away from it, and rose to the surface, drawing in a breath of air, then swam for my campsite. I put all of my weapons back in my bag, took it into the tent with me and laid down to get some sleep. I'd break camp at daybreak, and head for my car.

~SPN~

I dropped the last of my bags into my trunk, and shut it. I leaned against it and texted Dean. **'Finished with the case, but headed to Bobby's for additional research.'** I got in my car, and drove to the front gate. I checked out, and got on the road. A little while later, I heard my phone chime. I waited til I was heading straight, and checked it.

 **'Nerd.'** I grinned, and stepped on the gas.

~Singer Salvage, a different day.~

I pulled into the driveway around dark. I got out of my car, grabbed my clothing bag, and headed for the house. Bobby greeted me with a head nod, holding the 'FBI' phone to his head. I went up the stairs, and picked out one of the spare bedrooms to drop my bag in. I stepped into the bathroom, hair and tooth brushes in hand and freshened up. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, securing my bangs back with clips. I returned to the room, and changed into a soft pair of yoga pants, and a too big t-shirt, and headed down the stairs. I went back out to the Malibu, opening the trunk and stacking my journal and research crates, before lifting them from the car and closing the lid. I headed inside, using my foot to close the door behind me. I set my crates by the couch, grabbed a pen, and got to work updating my journals.

Darkness was beginning to settle in, and I'd been preparing an easy meal. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Although I'd made myself a can of chicken soup as well. I don't like tomato soup at all. Bobby and I were sitting in the living room, mugs and plates on our laps, and we discussed the details of my most recent hunt. We ate in silence, having found nothing interesting to watch. We hear a car pull up and Bobby stands, setting his plate on the coffee table. "Oughta be Sam and Dean," he mutters as if to himself, and heads to the door, grabbing a shotgun just in case. It was them naturally, and they came in, bags in tow. Dean nodded to me, heading up the stairs, but Sam gave me a hug when I stood. I headed into the kitchen to whip them up a few grilled cheeses.

I juggled two plates and two mugs of soup into the living room a bit later, and they were relaxing on the couch with Bobby. Bobby had grabbed two chairs from the den while I was cooking and I sat down in the free seat after handing the boys their food.

"So what are you guys doing here?" I asked when they were done, and I set aside yet another unhelpful lore book, and Bobby looked up over the one he was perusing. Dean looked over at me from his spot relaxing on the couch. I was sitting cross-legged in the wooden chair, which probably didn't look very comfortable at all.

"Laying low for a while. I'm wanted for murder after all, and that last hunt has everyone on the lookout." he replied. I looked around the piles Bobby had placed at my feet, and selected another book.

"So in other words, please stick around Cat, and make sure we don't eat food out of a can for the next month?" I asked, smiling. Dean just kinda scoffed, but Sam smiled warmly at me. I may not stay the whole month, but I would definately make sure everyone was eating well. Gotta keep up that hunter strength. "I'm sure I can find something to occupy my time. Tune up my car, build Bobby a decent bookshelf, clean up a bit..." I said trailing off and tossing a smile at Bobby. "And in the mean time, you can help me figure out what the hell I killed!" I tossed both of them a book from the pile, explaining the hunt.

It was late, probably around midnight. Dean had given up on helping, and retired upstairs. I doubted he was asleep, but I was hesitant to think of what he could be doing up there. All 3 spare rooms held tvs after all. Sam stood from the couch, book in hand and headed to the fridge for another beer. I flipped a page in yet another book, and found something interesting. Australian in origin, a monster called a 'Bunyip' seemed to fit close to my description. There wasn't anything about copper in the lore, but not all lore holds accurate. With a lead to follow, I snagged Sam's laptop from the coffee table and did a quick search. After maybe 20 mintes of skimming, I found an article on one of those websites that make fun of people's supernatural stories. He claimed to have run into a Bunyip in the local river. Said it 'gave him such a scare that he threw his copper pipe at it.' And then the monster shrieked and ran away. Enough for me, I showed Bobby who agreed that it was enough lore. He said he'd make some calls to a few of his connections to see if anyone else had run into it, and how they dealt with it.

Maybe an hour later, after just relaxing and chatting, I decided to turn in. I headed up the staircase and to the little room near the upstairs bathroom. The two bigger rooms had once belonged to Sam and Dean whenever their father was on a hunt that he left them there for. So naturally I left it alone. I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and exited. Dean was waiting in the hallway, leaned against the wall. "Sorry I took so long," I told him, heading for my room. I felt his gaze burning into my back as I opened the door and entered. "Did you need something?" I asked quietly. He turned abruptly and went back into his room, closing the door behind him. I hesitated, and went to his door. I knocked softly and heard a muttered permission to enter. I went in, noticing the distinct lack of decoration, the messy floor and bed. Dean was sitting up against the headboard, messing with a knife. I sat down tentatively at the edge of the bed, watching the floor. "Is everything ok?" I asked. He gave a noncommital answer. "Its just that... you seem to hate having me around. And if its true, I can leave you guys alone. I tend to go overboard when I meet new people. Its been... a long time since I've really had friends. And I really didn't mean to move into your lives." I said quickly. He sighed. I hated to think I was annoying him.

"Its not that I hate having you around. You just seemed to drop in at a really bad time. Out of nowhere." he tells me. We sit in silence for a few, and I pull my bare feet up onto the bed with me. It wasn't really an uncomfortable silence, but I still felt prompted to speak.

"I know I did. I can tell. But I really appreciate your friendship. I may be a little much to deal with at times, but I'm always here, ok?" I told him. I resisted the urge to reach over and touch his knee or hand. He didn't need a comforting gesture. Instead, I stood up, left his room, and went to mine.

 _ **So another chapter. I'd like to thank all of my reviewers, favs, and followers. You guys are great. I really wish I knew more of what I was doing with this story for this bit. I have some ideas from down the road but I have to get there first. I really don't plan on making this a huge fic, but I am aiming to do a thorough job, and not miss anything important. Nothing too much from night shifter in this chapter but it did give them a reason to all be at Bobby's. R/R please :)**_


	9. Roadkill

_**So I'm thinking the long waits is something that is going to end up lasting. I'm not gonna give excuses. I just hope you can understand. I'm not forgetting about this story, I promise. That being said, any suggestions, hunts, or scenes you want, I'd appreciate. My idea factory is at an all-time low. Doing this chapter like they do some of the episodes. The hunt part is between flashbacks to the research phase. Trying to do an interesting chapter, so I thought I'd mix the boring with the semi-exciting (since I'm no good at action scenes.) Also, going through some chapters on a previous story, I noticed a lot of grammar mistakes. Really stupid ones that I made while in a hurry to post a chapter. So please let me know how I am doing grammatically. I'd hate to look stupid.**_

Chapter 9: Roadkill

I checked my hand-held taser, glad to see the blue sparks. I looked at the rundown building before me in disgust. Inside, I knew there were at least 3 children. And a Rawhead. My lip curled at the thought of what it would become once I'd zapped it. I glanced down at my clothes. I'd stopped at a Goodwill on the way, and purchased some clothing I didn't care to wear ever again.

~Three Days Prior~

"Hey how's the trip going?" I asked Sam and Dean. They had me on speakerphone on Sam's cell. I heard Dean say something about a boring drive. I knew they were on their way to an annual ghost. Only showed up the same day each year. This year they were hoping to put it to rest. They hadn't given me any other details really, other than they'd missed it the year before. I was on my way to another case. Missing children where I was going. "You'll get it this year guys." I told them.

"Of course we will," Dean replied, all confidence. "What do you have?" he asked a few seconds later. I gave him the rundown. I listened to them discuss my case for a while, glad to give them something to do on their journey. It wasn't like I had many ideas anyways. I was still pretty new to hunting anyways. After a few, Dean asked, semi-casually, "Do you have a taser?" Wondering what I would need a taser for I replied.

"Sure, you guys think its just some creep taking kids?" And Dean proceeded to tell me about Rawheads. About how they were faster and stronger than us. About how their only weakness was to be electrocuted. And a story about a Rawhead they had fought, and Dean nearly killing himself. My chest had squeezed uncomfortably at that, but I ignored it. "Well I don't have the gun version, but I do have the rechargeable hand-held model. Pft, I've had that since before I was a hunter." I told them.

"What did you need a taser for before that?" Dean asked, and I keep hear the scoff in his voice.

"There are people that are monsters too Dean," I reminded him softly. He didn't say anything else. I didn't tell him about my penchant for finding said human monsters before hunting. After about another minute of uncomfortable silence, I couldn't take it anymore. Nothing worse than awkward silences. "So look guys, there's a rest stop ahead, and I'm gonna be stopping there for a bit. I'll call you guys later, when I know for sure what I'm dealing with. You guys are probably right though. I'll dig out my taser. Safer for me anyways. I don't always watch where I'm standing." I hung up the phone, and dropped it into the seat beside me. I heard the buzz of them calling me back. And when I ignored it, the ping of a text. I pulled into the rest stop and checked the message. ' **Dean says that you had better watch where you are standing. Or he'd find you.'** I rolled my eyes.

 **'Not to worry, it was really only a joke.'** I replied. I went into the rest stop, toiletry bag in hand. I availed myself of their restroom, and used the mirror to brush my hair, pulling it back into the loose, low ponytail I used when driving. I brushed my teeth, and added a few swipes of mascara to my eyelashes. I sighed, and headed back out to my car. There used to be a time where I worried about being pretty. Wearing makeup, nice clothes. Til my parents were killed while I was at work. Then this hunting thing started. At 25 years old, I'd already given up on staying pretty. It was sad.

I started my car and continued on my journey. It wasn't long til I reached my destination. Some normal looking town, in the middle of some state. I didn't really care. I gave up on trying to make sense of how monsters chose their living places anymore. I found a place to stay, and set myself up to do a long evening of research.

~Present~

I entered the house, with a flashlight in my left hand, taser in my right. From my research, and what Dean had said, it would be in the basement. Still, I cleared the upper floors, hoping the children (if they were alive) would be hiding out somewhere above. Doubtful, but I'm an optimist, most of the time. Finally, no choice left, I stared down the dark stairwell, to where I heard scuffling sounds. Halfheartedly, I tried the lightswitch. It didn't work, and I'd known it wouldn't. Still, dark basements are creepy. I took my first steps down, the rotting wood creaking beneath my feet. Stealth had never been an option in this house.

~Two Days Prior~

I closed my laptop, having done enough research in my opinion. There wasn't much lore on Rawheads, and the little legend was even less helpful. Just some rhyme used to frighten naughty children. I'd wasted an hour trying to over analyze the dumb thing. I flipped open my cell, and dialed Dean's number. After about the 5th ring, he picked up. He greeted me. "Hey, just doing a little bit of last minute reading up on Rawheads, but I'm not finding much." I informed him.

"Yea, Dad did the same thing. They are one of those monsters you kind of have to learn on the go with." he replied. I scoffed. "Whatcha need?" he asked, a few seconds late.

"Ideas on where to look for the thing. I have the cold and dark part from what little lore there is, but what else am I looking for? One legend says swamp, but there isn't anything like that here." I told him. I could almost hear him smiling over the phone.

"You're looking for an abandoned building. Outskirts of town probably. Condemned for sure. They like basements. And don't expect it to come to you. They like the element of surprise. He'll try to get you when you go for the kids. They usually hold on to them for a while. I guess they like the fear too." Dean told me. I nodded to myself, thanking Dean.

"How's Sam?" I asked, surprised I hadn't heard his voice. Dean told her that they were stopped and Sam was using the restroom. "Well, I guess I'm going house hunting," I joked. "I'll talk to you later?" Dean gave a distracted affirmative, and we both hung up our phones. I drove around, taking it street by street. Not surprisingly, there were a few either abandoned or unkempt houses. I made note of them, and made plans to spend the evening breaking and entering. By the time I'd cruised all the streets, I had nearly a dozen houses to check.

~Present~

The basement must have been some sort of storage area for the previous, human, tenants. And they had to have been in the early onset of hoarding. There were boxes everywhere. Broken furniture, old cabinets. I aimed the flashlight around me, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Rawhead, before it tried to get me. In the process, I saw a flash of pale peach. One of the children must be hiding behind the boxes. "I'm not here to hurt you," I called out. "I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Is it still here?" The child stood up, blond hair dirty and sticking to her face in places. The first of the three children. I motioned for her to come to me, eyes and flashlight moving around the room. "Where are the others?" I asked her. She pointed to the opposite side of the room, behind another mound of boxes. I nodded to myself, and pointed up the stairs. "Get to safety sweetie. The others won't be far behind you." The girl scurried up the stairs, and I watched to make sure she made it. I steeled my resolve, and picked my way to the corner.

~Yesterday~

I flopped into the creaky bed. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I'd broken into four houses that night. Not one of them showed signs of the creature or the children. Although in the upstairs master bedroom of house 3, I'd found a jewelry box that I'd swiped. If anything in it were real, I'd sell it off. Always nice to make a buck. Of course, house 3 was also not abandoned, so any selling would have to be done elsewhere. Although why someone would have that much jewelry, and have a house that was falling apart was beyond me. I was betting at least half of my loot was fake. I rolled myself out of the bed and headed to my car. I drove to the little grocery store and grabbed a few boxes of pop tarts. I went back to my motel room, ate a pack, and fell asleep.

~Last Night~

My luck was abysmal. House number 7 was also a bust, and now I had scratches up and down my right leg. I'd been heading down the staircase to the main floor, and my leg went through rotted wood. I'd damn near tased myself in the process too. As I entered house 8, I reminded myself to keep my finger off of the stun button. While searching the kitchen, I heard tires. I peeked through the window, and saw a cop car. Chances were it was a patrol. My luck, someone called in a disturbance. I went into the back bedroom, yanked really hard on a window that was mostly stuck, and squeezed myself out into the backyard. I ran to the crappy privacy fence, jumped, and hoisted myself over. I ran a good few blocks til I was away from the immediate area. I pulled a ponytail off of my wrist, tied my hair up and began a casual jog back to where I'd left my car. To the onlooker, I was just someone out for a late night/early morning jog. I'd never been more glad to wear my black leggings and dark blue tank top.

~Present~

I took one last look around me, and seeing nothing, I tried to get a look at the other children. They were sitting together, holding each other. Two little boys, one smaller than the other. Brothers, taken the same night. I reached down, to help them up, and was thrown backwards. I crashed into an old cabinet, the door breaking behind me, and I caught myself on my elbows and knees. I stood up, taser crackling blue for a second, and flashlight aiming around the space. As I turned to look behind me, I saw an ugly creature, with matted hair and leathery skin, seconds before I was sent flying again. This time, I crashed into a pile of boxes labeled kitchen. And also, near the children. They looked at me in horror, and I motioned for them to get down, and keep hiding. The Rawhead came back at me, and I reached out with that stun gun crackling. It grabbed me by the ankles and slung me to the side, turning towards the children. I stood and ran at it hoping to distract it. Superior speed and all, it turned, grabbed me, and slammed me back on the kitchen boxes. Pain ripped through my side, and I ignored it. The Rawhead still stood over me. I sat up, and tagged it in the leg with my stun gun. Seconds later, I was covered in warm, slimy orange goo.

It took me another second to process my surroundings, but when I did, I could hear the two boys screaming. I would too if I saw a monster disintegrate into nasty smelly goo. And it did smell. Horribly. I stood, and swayed a bit on my feet. I took about a minute to take stock of my injuries. My left leg didn't want to take my weight. Pain would rocket up my leg when I did. It was ignore-able for the time being. Besides the many bruises I would have in the morning, there was one last injury. I didn't want to look. I noted that the children already were. I looked to my left side. Below all of my ribs, closer to my back than my side, a kitchen knife stuck out. Angry, I turned to the kitchen box and tore it open. Glass cups were shattered in it. And loose silverware was strewn throughout the box. Including knives much bigger than the one my side sported. I wasn't willing to pull it out without being close to my medical supplies, so I ushered the children up the stairs. The little girl was waiting by the front door, and looked horrified at my appearance. We all went out the door together. I pointed the children down the street, to a well lit house that looked friendly. I kept to the shadows, and watched as an elderly lady opened the door for them.

The adrenaline wore off by the time I reached my car. The amount of pain I was in, was enough to bring me to my knees. I stayed there for a minute, Then pulled myself into my car. And motored off to the motel room I was staying in. Med bag in hand, I forced myself into the bathroom. I opened the bag, and put a towel between my teeth. I pulled out the knife, and watched for a second as blood welled to the surface, and rolled down my side. I poured some peroxide over the wound and hissed as it burned its way into the gash. I pressed another towel to the wound, while I used my other hand to stopper the sink. I poured some rubbing alcohol in the sink and dropped a curved needle into it. Then I lit the alcohol on fire. Once the alcohol had burned away, I used my elbow to hold the towel to my side. In my left hand, with its limited mobility while keeping the towel in place, I held the needle. I threaded some medical string through the eye, and set to work stitching myself up. It was difficult, with the placement of the wound, but I managed to sloppily close it up. At least I slowed the bleeding. I stripped off my gory clothing and stepped into the shower.

I stood beneath the spray for a while, working soap into my hair. I felt the tug of the stitches and knew I'd need to have it redone by someone else. After cleaning sufficiently, I dried off, and taped gauze over the wound. I picked up the knife, thanking everything above that it was only a paring knife. I didn't think I'd managed to hit anything important, but I'd find out. I dropped all of the bloodied cloth, and the knife, into the trash in the kitchen, and buttoned myself into a plaid shirt and slipped on a pair of yoga pants, and packed quickly.

~Singer Salvage~

I pulled into the lot, parking in front of the house. I walked in, and tumbled to the couch. Bobby hurried over, and I tugged at my shirt, revealing the wound to him. I heard a low whistle, and he rushed off. I glanced at my side, and saw the black marring my pale skin, and telling of internal bleeding.

 _ **Well hope this is a better chapter. And it also gives a bit of a cliff hanger. Glad I could work something in like that. As always, please let me know what you think.**_


	10. Roadkill Part 2

_**So I hope the last chapter was a little better. After this chapter, things should be starting in a different direction for our newbie hunter. I don't know.**_

Chapter 10: Roadkill Part 2

~Last Time~

I pulled into the lot, parking in front of the house. I walked in, and tumbled to the couch. Bobby hurried over, and I tugged at my shirt, revealing the wound to him. I heard a low whistle, and he rushed off. I glanced at my side, and saw the black marring my pale skin, and telling of internal bleeding.

~Now~

I stared at my side, panicked. At first, I couldn't think, my breath held, wondering what I'd done wrong. Bobby came back with a big box full of medical supplies. I felt dizzy, and I knew I'd lost a lot of blood, even though it hadn't left my body per say. I met Bobby's eyes. "We're going to have to cauterize the wound," he said slowly. It took me a minute to understand what he was saying. He was going to put a very very hot knife into my side. I nodded to him, unable to form words. "If this doesn't help, I have to take you to the hospital." I shook my head at him. It was the last thing I wanted.

"Paring knife," I told him. "That's what stabbed me. Funny story, gonna have to tell you some other time. I'll probably pass out at some point." I muttered. Bobby went into the kitchen, and came back with a knife a little bigger than the one I'd been stabbed with. He was going to make the wound bigger, cauterize more. To make sure he got it all. In his other hand, was a thick fluffy towel. He handed it to me, and set to removing my sloppy stitches. I took the time to look at the knife. It was more of a dagger, considering it was bladed on both sides. My nerves began to get the better of me, as I anticipated the pain. From seemingly nowhere, Bobby pulled a large bottle of whiskey. I hate whiskey. But circumstances provided, I grabbed the bottle and drank deeply. Hoping to get drunk quickly, I took another long drag, and coughed out the burn in my throat. I put the bottle on the floor, and about a minute later, I felt the lightness to my mind, that indicated a buzz. I hadn't noticed, but the dagger was now cherry red over the flame that Bobby still held to it. "You're... gonna have to sit on me," I warned him. He shook his head at me, and stood. He put his knee over my ribs, his weight holding me down. I pushed the towel into my mouth, and looked away as he leaned over.

I'd hoped the little bit of alcohol would numb at least some of the pain. I'm not sure if it did or didn't. All I know, is first, I smelled my skin burning. My brain hadn't been ready to process the pain, and that's what I noticed. A sick smell, somewhere between charcoal and metal assaulted my nose. Then I felt the pain. It was worse than anything I'd ever felt. A thousand times worse than the time I'd accidentally dumped a pan of boiling water on my foot. Because it was inside of me. I heard myself screaming around the towel, and I knew I had to stop. All of this had happened in seconds. I turned my head to look at the dagger in my side, horrified to realize that he wasn't done. In sick fascination, I watched him push the dagger in further, and I couldn't process any more. Black took over my vision, and I slipped away into oblivion, tense muscle slumping.

I had no idea how long it had been when I finally woke up. My side still felt like it was on fire, and all of my muscles were sore from straining to get away from the pain. Whatever buzz I'd had from the alcohol was long gone, and I felt everything intensely. I looked down, and noticed there was something squeezing the ankle I'd hurt. From the way my foot looked, I could only assume it had swollen at some point. I hadn't noticed it before, but it hurt too. I picked up the bottle beside the couch and numbly noted there was blood down the front of the couch. It would have to be replaced.

I drank from the bottle again, pulling myself up on the couch in the process. Bobby came from the kitchen, and helped prop me up with some couch pillows. He went back into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Not the chunky with the vegetables, but the kind that was easy to swallow when you were sick. It made me smile. He set it on a tray, and put the tray across my lap. "Sam and Dean are on their way here," he said, sitting on a kitchen chair right beside me, instead of one of the chairs further away. "They called you last night. Told me you were hunting a Rawhead and made a joke about accidentally standing in water when ya ganked it. And when you never called them yesterday evening, Sam got worried. When you still didn't call last night, he called, I answered." It had been early morning when I'd pulled into Bobby's lot. He must have seen the question in my eyes. "It's been about 23 hours since you came in." He stood and walked away from me and I could swear I heard something that sounded a lot like 'idgit'. I decided to focus on my soup.

I passed the time by skimming through the lore books on the coffee table. I wasn't surprised when I looked up to stretch my neck, and found it to be dark out. I heard the sounds of tires on gravel. Bobby had left early to pick up some food to make and I'd assumed it was him. I heard the door open and close and footsteps, and I was greeted by the sight of Dean Winchester. I could see Sam behind him, and they came into the den. I waved a little, nervous about the look on Dean's face. "You're done hunting," he told me. I could hear the barely masked anger in his voice.

"Well yea, for the next 2-4 weeks," I replied sarcastically. The look on his face darkened. "Don't angry Winchester me. I'm an adult. I'm not your sister, and you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. I'm a hunter. Hunters get hurt. Hunters die. I'm alive, and yes, I had a mishap. That doesn't mean I hang up my shotgun and call it done. There are more monsters than hunters. Every hunter counts. Especially since we die young. I'm not done yet." I told him. He'd kept opening his mouth to interrupt me. Each time I'd raised my voice to cover his protests, and lowered my voice when he closed his mouth. It hurt my side to yell.

"You're not a hunter!" he finally yelled at me. I flinched. "You don't know what you're doing, you've gotten hurt on at least half your hunts. Every time you talk to me about a case, you end up hurt. You don't have the training you need to do what we do. You're better off here, doing what Bobby does! At least then you are still helping people!" Somewhere along way, his angry yelling had become pleading yelling. And at some point during his mini rant, Bobby had come home, and was leaning against the doorway into the den.

"I'm not going to just sit here. I DO have the capability to do this. Wonderful to know you believe in me by the way. I'm going to keep going out there whether you want me to or not. But at least I can promise that when I get hurt, I take the time to fully recover before I go back out there. What about you? Can you say the same?" I worked to keep my voice down. To keep the venom out of it. But my eyes glared daggers into his. He opened his mouth to yell at me some more, but Sam grabbed his arm. He seemed to deflate, even if it was temporary. He turned, and flopped down onto the couch, mindful of my feet. He snagged the book from my hands, glared at the contents, and tossed it across the room.

"If you idgits are done bickering, one of you two can make yourself useful and make dinner," he said, looking between Sam and Dean. He held out the grocery bags, which Sam reluctantly took heading into the kitchen. In Bobby's other hand, I noticed a brown bag. He handed it to me. I opened it and found vodka. I smiled contentedly. I'd eliminated the whiskey and I must have told him I preferred vodka at some point. I cracked the cap, took a shot's worth of a drink, closed it and put the bottle withing reach. After a bit of glaring at each other, Bobby finally grabbed Dean's attention from me. The two of them went outside, and I was alone in the den again. I reached for the coffee table, and nearly fell off the couch grabbing another book.

Dinner was eaten in the den, and there was no TV to watch. When Dean and Bobby had come in, they were covered in oil so I assumed they'd been working on a car. They'd washed up and brought chairs in to sit with me. After they ate, and the dishes were moved to the sink, they all came back to sit with me. Sam sat at my feet this time and, wonderful guy that he was, started massaging my feet. I smiled at him with gratitude. I saw Dean's eyes snap to Sam's actions, and then look away. "So, ya gonna tell me how ya ended up with a knife in your side?" Bobby finally asked me. I looked around the room, three pairs of eyes on me. I really didn't want to tell Dean. I swallowed.

"I got one of the kids out, but they'd separated. When I went back for the other two, like Dean said, that's when the Rawhead decided to attack. It threw me around a bit. Including into a box of kitchen stuff. I went to zap his ass, and he picked me up and slammed me back down onto the box. Knife went through the box and into me. Not much of a story," I said quickly. I looked around. Disbelief colored all of their faces.

"You're probably the only hunter who's been stabbed by having bad luck. Out of all of the places to get slammed, you landed on the box that hurts you," Sam jokes, putting my feet down.

"Which is exactly why she needs to hang up hunting," Dean growls. He seemed to drop the subject after that. Bobby checked the time, and decided to head to bed. He brought pillows and blankets from the closet for me, and Sam stood up so I could lay down. I asked them about their hunt, and they told me about the ghosts they had dealt with. Maybe an hour later, Sam went to bed too. My eyes were drifting, but Dean was still there and looking like he wanted to say something. I didn't want to fight with him anymore, but the steady buzz I'd kept throughout the day had cut my filter.

"What?" I asked him. He seemed to snap out of his thoughts. Rather than speaking, he came over to my side and grabbed my shoulders, lifting my tired body into a sitting position. He sat down behind me, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I protested, giving a quiet "What are you doing?!" He gave me a look that clearly told me I was being stupid. He had the shirt pulled up enough that he could see the dark bruising on my side, as well as the sewn up skin. The skin beneath the stitches was burned and angry, sharply smarting when his fingers brushed along the line. I flinched away from his hand. Without really looking for it, I reached down and felt for my bottle of vodka. Almost as soon as my fingers reached it, Dean's hand pushed it away.

"I think you're done for the night," he told me. I felt the warmth of his hand as his fingers pulled my shirt back down. I'd expected him to move. But he didn't, so I leaned back against him.

"I'm sorry I keep getting hurt," I told him. "Can't be easy seeing friends hurt." I was quiet, and I wasn't sure he'd really heard me. But his arm came up over my head and settled at my waist. I shifted so that I was more comfortable against his shoulder.

"I just don't want anyone else I know to die," he muttered. I could understand what he meant. I knew that after tonight he was going to continue to have an issue with me hunting.

"Then help me get better," I whispered, I turned my head so our eyes could meet. His face had shut down. "I'm not going to stop. I'll... stay here more often and work on the research end some, but nothing you say will keep me away from hunting. So teach me to be better. That way you don't have to worry so much when I'm gone." Instead of replying, he stood up, and I flopped back down onto the couch. I covered myself with a blanket, kicking it down to cover my toes. Dean left the room, flipping the light switch and plunging me into darkness. I fell asleep quickly.

The next morning, I forced myself awake at dawn. Half asleep, I dragged myself up the stairs and into the bathroom. I stripped, and waited for the spray of water to be warm. I got in, closing the curtain and sitting down to let the spray run over me. After I felt a little more awake, I stood up to actually wash my hair and body. I shut the water off and stood there for a few, letting the water run off and trying to pull together the energy to towel off and change... into the disgusting crusty and slightly bloody clothing I'd been wearing the day before. Had been wearing for two days apparently. I squeezed more water from my hair and stepped out onto the shower rug. I wrapped myself in the towel and looked at the clothing, wondering whether or not I'd be able to make it downstairs, out to my car, and back without running into anyone in just a towel. But before I could even open the door, it swung open.

A bleary eyed Dean stared at me for a moment. I stared back. "Where are your clothes?" he asked me, obviously not fully awake. I indicated the floor. He disappeared from the doorway, and came back seconds later with a pair of boxers and one of his t-shirts. After tossing the clothing at me, he closed the door. Hesitantly I changed. I gathered my dirty clothing and opened the door. Dean's eyes swept over my body in his clothing, and he went into the bathroom, closing the door. I went down the stairs, dropping my soiled clothing in front of the couch and dropping onto it, covering my legs with the blanket.

My stomach growled and since no one else was awake, I got up and went into the kitchen to fix myself some eggs. I ate, and took my plate to the sink, and rinsed it off. I heard footsteps, and turned. Dean was there, wearing jeans and his hair was dripping water. He took the few steps across the kitchen, and I found myself pressed between the sink and his body. His lips were hard and demanding against mine, his hands pressing into my hips. And then he was gone, the backdoor slamming behind him as he exited the house through the kitchen.

 _ **So that's it hope you liked it.**_


	11. Heart

_**So there was last chapter. And I left it where I did. I know the story is a slow-burn so I thought a little action would liven it up. I'm starting to worry about this story. I hadn't really planned on doing any more fanfiction, but I'd had this idea burning. I wanted it to be more popular than it is, because of it being different. I'm getting lots of follows. And don't think I'm not grateful. I just crave feedback. Once I've started something, I don't want to stop, so I'm going to finish this. Its just going to be hard. Reviews are my inspiration and it is actually harder than I thought to write without them. Thank you SO much to my reviewer** wideawakepastmidnight **for showing me my story isn't quite as dead as I thought it was.**_

Chapter 11: Heart

~Last Time~

My stomach growled and since no one else was awake, I got up and went into the kitchen to fix myself some eggs. I ate, and took my plate to the sink, and rinsed it off. I heard footsteps, and turned. Dean was there, wearing jeans and his hair was dripping water. He took the few steps across the kitchen, and I found myself pressed between the sink and his body. His lips were hard and demanding against mine, his hands pressing into my hips. And then he was gone, the backdoor slamming behind him as he exited the house through the kitchen.

~Now~

I stood in the kitchen stunned. The water was still running behind me, and I could hear the screen door settling. My feet carried me to the door and I watched Dean stalk over to the Impala. He opened the trunk and after a second pulled a shirt over his head. Then he got into the driver's seat and left, throwing gravel behind him. A few minutes later, I heard thumping down the stairs, and Sam appeared in the kitchen. He looked around. "Where's Dean?" he asked. I indicated out the door.

"He left." I stated simply. It was then that Sam seemed to take in my appearance. His eyes skimmed over Dean's shirt, which barely reached the bottom of my stomach, my breasts the only thing preventing it from being long on my shorter, lean frame. He took in the fact that I was obviously wearing Dean's boxers as shorts. And then his eyes met mine. "Its not what it looks like," I stated firmly. His eyebrow raised, questioning me. Doubting the fact that I was telling the truth. "He walked in on me after I'd gotten out of the shower. I realized that my clothes from yesterday had been worn two days in a row. And he threw these at me. We didn't... we didn't _do_ anything." I'd placed emphasis on the word 'do', but as I thought about the kiss, I felt my face flush. I looked away from Sam, his face still showing disbelief.

I padded into the living room, bare feet cold because of the linoleum. I slipped my shoes on without socks and went out the front door to collect my clothing from the car. I hurried back into the house, and I went up the stairs to the room that I'd occupied every now and again. I changed clothes quickly, and tossed Dean's back onto his bed. Now that I was up and about, I realized my leg didn't really hurt anymore. I pulled off the thing on my leg, actually taking the time to look at it when I had it in my hands. On the inside, of all places, there were instructions for wear. It was called an 'air cast'. Regardless, I took the thing down the stairs with me and to the couch where I'd slept. I folded up the blankets, and sat down on the couch with a book. Some romance novel from my bag of clothing. I'd been working on it in the bit of down time I had. Now I had plenty.

Hours later, Dean comes strolling through the front door, through the den and pointedly not looking at me. He heads into the kitchen, grabs a beer, and goes out the back door. I rolled my eyes. Bobby raised an eyebrow at me, having been in the fluffy armchair when Dean came in. I shrugged my shoulders at him, and stood up. Bobby eyed my ankle for a minute, which I brushed off, and headed into the kitchen to grab more of the vodka, which had been put in the freezer at some point.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Sam kept shooting pointed looks between the two of us, Dean was pointedly focusing on his food, and Bobby was trying to ignore everything. I collected the dishes, swiping Dean's nearly finished plate from his hands, and taking them to the sink. I started the water, and turned to face the table. Everyone was looking at me. "Disperse," I said tersely. Sam and Bobby headed toward the living room. Dean and I had a stare down. "I'm sorry, were you not finished?" I said sarcastically. His face shut down, and he stood from the table. He headed out the back door, and I shut off the faucet before following him. He stomped off into the junk yard portion of the lot, and I wasn't sure if he was running away from me, looking for a part, trying to get out of earshot of the house, or heading off to destroy something. Regardless of his reasoning, I followed him anyways, and eventually, I rounded a corner to find him waiting for me arms crossed. "What the hell is your problem?" I asked him. I didn't raise my voice. His expression told me he wanted to yell. But he didn't.

"What do you want from me?" he asked. Confusion must have covered my features, because he continued. "And I'm not talking about this morning. I mean, you are always texting us, calling us. Don't you have any other friends you can talk to? Why are you following me around?" he asked.

"Dean... I don't want anything. Even after this morning. You're my friend. And no, I don't have any other friends. And I'm following you because you are making a big deal over something _you_ did. I didn't ask for it. I don't even need it. I don't _need_ anything other than to be healed so I can get back out there. I think you are upset because you made a mistake, and now you are assuming I expect more from you than you are willing to give. So think about this. I expect _nothing_ from you. Ever. I want a friend to talk to. I want a better hunter to give me advice, and maybe a little training since said hunter thinks I suck. I want you to stop being a dick. All things I want. I don't need this," I ranted gesturing between the two of us, to the 6 foot distance between us. My answer seemed to shock him.

"Does Sammy know?" he asked finally. The way he said it clearly showed that 'Sammy' would very much disapprove. Which I'd already guessed.

"He suspects. I didn't, wouldn't, tell him anything that happened between us. That kind of thing is... private," I told him rolling my eyes. "Although with your performance today, I'm going to assume he knows something happened. Good job," I joked. Dean scowled at me.

"And about this morning..." he trailed off. Involuntarily, my eyes drifted over his body. Thinking about the kiss, I began to feel hot all over. I bit my lip, and met his eyes. I could tell he noticed my look.

"You did it," I reiterated. "Whatever your reasoning, it didn't mean anything." A small part of my mind rejected that thought. But only a small part. Dean was very attractive, and I cared about him as a person. Yes, he had made his way into a few of the little fantasies my mind had come up with at night, but its not like I actually wanted to be with him. "Although, am I right in assuming that the reasoning is that fact that men can't seem to resist girls wearing their clothes?" I asked, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow. He scoffed, looking away. "Dean..." I started trailing off, deciding how I wanted to word what I wanted to say. "Everyone has needs, physical or otherwise. Even I do. And being on the road, hunting... things, makes it hard for us to meet our needs," I stated. I wasn't sure entirely where I was going with this, so I stopped myself.

"I do just fine," he stated. Of course he did. No wonder Sam didn't seem surprised to find me in his clothes. Just angry. I shrugged at him, walking over to a beat up shell of a car, and sat down. Dean joined me a minute later. We leaned back against the rusty doors, and I stared up at the sky.

"I'm not surprised that you do well. Kind of surprised you seem to have avoided diseases," I teased. He looked indignant, and I laughed. "And um, not that this is going to convince you that I'm not like interested in you or anything," I babbled, unable to stop the words pouring out of my mouth. "We could, um... ever heard of friends with benefits?" My eyes widened, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, not believing I'd suggested what I had. He turned his head to look at me. I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "Please, please forget that came out of my mouth," I told him. I was mortified, my face hot enough that I knew it was red all over.

"Not likely," he muttered, looking away.

"Believe me when I say how absolutely horrified I am with myself. I don't usually say things like that. I am quitting vodka, pain be damned," I stated, trying to remember how much I'd had today. Apparently I was having word vomit issues, because I continued to talk. "Its just that maybe I haven't been, you know, getting my needs met. And here you are, someone I can guarantee won't expect me to stick around and play girlfriend." I forced my foggy brain and body off the ground. I was too horrified to look back at him. I made my way into the kitchen, up the stairs, and flopped down in my bed.

They left the next day. Didn't say much. Just headed out to go look for some hunts. Wouldn't be back for a while. I didn't need to be a genius to figure out that it was more than likely my fault for the abrupt exit. The first thing I'd done that morning was dump all of my vodka down the sink, so now I was sober, hung over, and ridiculously embarrassed while Bobby just looked at me, like he was waiting for me to come clean. It wasn't happening.

"So..." Bobby said, trailing off. He'd just come in from the den, where I'd heard him trip over something. "You said something about cleaning up a while back?" He looked like it was the last thing he wanted to say. I arched an eyebrow at him. He let out a long breath. "Look, Sam and Dean asked me to keep ya here for a week to make sure you're healed up. And I figure, at least its something for you to do." I smirked, and agreed.

Bobby's cell phone rings one evening. I'd ended up staying longer than a week, the 'project' turning out to be a huge undertaking I couldn't give up on. I was currently looking out the living room window at the full moon, but the silence was cut by the shrill ringing. "What are you talking about Sam?" Bobby said. I turned around, curious about what was going on. "No you can't 'cure' a werewolf," Bobby said. "No severing the bloodline doesn't work, what's going on over there? Sam?" Bobby glanced at his cellphone. "Sam?" he said again. "Alright, bye," Bobby finished, hanging up his phone.

"Curing werewolves?" I asked. Bobby shook his head.

"It can't be done," was all he said, walking out of the den where we'd been. I heard him flip on the tv. I turned back to my 'project' staring at the bookshelves I'd built and stained a dark mahogany color. They'd been pushed up against the wall that had previously held stacks of books and a desk. I set to work filling the shelves by category.

I'd lost track of time, but eventually, the phone was ringing again. Bobby was outside, and his cell was on the coffee table. I glanced at the ID, and saw Dean's name. I answered. "Bobby's phone," I said.

"Cat?" Dean asked, surprise coloring his voice, "hey, let Bobby know we did end up... we... killed the werewolf," he said, and I was surprised to hear sorrow lacing his tone. I bit my lip, wondering what had happened.

"Are you... are you coming back?" I asked, hoping to keep the hopefulness out of my tone. Dean gave me a negative response. "Well, ok then. Be seeing you," I said, and hung up the phone. I delivered the message to Bobby, and hurried to finish the den. I could come back for the rest of the house some other time. I was ready to get back out there.

 _ **Another chapter. Probably not a great one, not my best work. (For my best work see my Inuyasha one-shot. That is only good because its a fluffier version of a scene that was already there) As always, read and review, I appreciate any input you may have. I'm even willing to read a flame at this point. I feel like I'm doing poorly here.**_


	12. What Is And What Should Never Be

_**So, for this chapter, I'll be doing some Dean and Sam, as well as some Cat. Hoping I get this chapter done the way I want it to, but we will all see how it turns out. Doing this chapter 3rd person for reasons you will find out.**_

Chapter 12: What Is And What Should Never Be

Dean enters the ruined factory, holding a flashlight and swinging open a creaky door. He walks through an abandoned office, eyes moving over filing cabinets, a typewriter, and other assorted office items. He can hear water dripping off somewhere but he doesn't see where. The room was otherwise unoccupied. He turns around, and goes out through the hall, flashlight moving around. Suddenly, he's shoved up against the window wall. The flashlight tumbles from his grip, knocking against the floor, and sending the beam around for just a second. Dean attempts to fight back, and his hand is slammed against the wall, and the knife in his had clatters to the floor next. Dean sees a glowing blue light, in the shape of a hand, and just behind it, what looks like glowing blue eyes. The hand touches his forehead, and he loses consciousness.

Cat parks her car in the covered lot, and steps out. She slings her backpack over her shoulder, and leaves her car after locking it. She hurries out, and down the road, turning down a side street and stopping in the middle. She carefully checks that no one is around, and pulls off the sewer lid, climbing down the ladder and pulling the lid back over her. When she hits the bottom, she tugs the flashlight out of the loop on the side of her pack, and clicks it on. She shines the beam around, before walking down the path in front of her. She wore knee high water galoshes over her jeans. As she continued down the sewer tunnel, her light caught on something. She crouched, and looked at it.

It was gooey and she didn't want to touch it, but it looked like pieces of skin. Exactly what she'd expected to find down here. And if it was shedding, she had to assume she was close to its nest. She stepped back, and set down her pack, digging through it for her silver knife. She tested the blade, long and razor sharp. Then she kept going, following the trail of flesh. It wasn't long before she reached a split in the path. She debated between the two. One had flesh, the other didn't. Something about the placement of the flesh though... it looked placed almost. She took the path without.

Maybe twenty minutes passed, and she saw a light at the end. She turns into the room, scanning it, and noticing someone tied to a beam in the middle of what looks like a room for maintenance workers. There's an actual ladder leading to the surface, one that is sturdy looking and safe. There's a pile of skin in the far corner, and the look is enough to turn most stomachs. Her attention is again drawn to the person tied to the beam, the sole occupant of the room. Slowly, she approaches.

Dean wakes up in the Impala, heavy club music in the background. He checked his phone for the time, finding multiple calls from Sam. He listens to the voice-mail, stretching the best he can without leaving the car. ' _Dean where are you? You were supposed to meet us at the house on the corner of 5_ _th_ _and Oakley two hours ago. She got away while I was waiting for you. Call me back.'_ Dean hit the speed dial for Sam, listening to it ring, one...two...three times before he hears a disgruntled, "Dean where the hell are you?"

"Uh..." Dean squints his eyes at the neon sign, giving Sam the name of the club. He hears Sam scoff, and could just picture him rolling his eyes. "Look I'll meet you there ok?" Dean says. Sam gives his assent, and Dean ends the call. He starts the car and drives down the oddly familiar roads. It doesn't take him long to find the place, and Sam is there leaning against a silver mustang. Dean gets out of the car, and pats the silver one as he comes to a stop by Sam. "Its the douche-mobile," Dean states, grinning at Sam. Sam rolls his eyes.

"I told you to quit calling my car that," he states. "Now lets get back before someone starts to worry. You know how they are." The sentence causes Dean to pause. Something doesn't feel right. He and Sam usually hunt alone. The thought feels both right and wrong to him, and its really confusing. Dean gets in the Impala following Sam. They stop at a motel, and head to a room. Sam knocks and hears a quiet 'enter'. They go in and Dean freezes. Sitting at the table were John and Mary Winchester. Dean crosses the room quickly, leaning down to hug his mother. She seems surprised but happy.

"Dean you're acting weird tonight. What did you drink at that club?" she asks. Dean shakes his head not quite sure what he drank. He couldn't remember much from before then. He shakes his head, and hugs his mom again. John stands, visually checking Dean over. He claps a hand to Dean's shoulder.

"Get some rest, we'll get the witch tomorrow." John told him. Dean nodded numbly, and followed Sam. They went through the door and across the hall to another room, which Sam unlocked and entered. Dean collapsed on the unmade bed he felt was his, and fell asleep almost immediately, clothing and all.

Cat flips open her phone and dials. A few rings later, Bobby answers. "Bobby, its Cat. I'm hunting that shifter. They've got a hostage in here, but it looks like its abandoned the lair otherwise. Look, I think I'm gonna need your help with this one." A few seconds later, she nods to herself. "Thanks Bobby, I'll see you soon. Yea, I'll drive you back." Cat ends the call. Bobby was taking the red-eye flight, and would be there in two hours. Cat crouches down to meet the hostages eyes, green, that defiantly glare back into hers. Cat laughs softly. She reaches out and yanks on the sandy blonde hair that is the same as the hair pulled into a ponytail on her head. She pulls down the gag on the hostages mouth, letting her speak.

"Bobby is gonna know you're a fake," Cat, the real Cat, spits at her. The shifter laughs derisivly. She stands, pivoting on the soles of the rain boots, and heads back the way she came, leaving the real Cat to struggle against her bonds. It had to be cold for her, sitting mostly naked on the damp concrete ground. The shifter Cat couldn't bring herself to care. It was too much fun looking at things through the eyes of the hunter.

They finish the clean up on the witch hunt, and they all pile into their cars. Sam in his mustang, Dean in the Impala, and John in a dark blue truck. Mary rides with John, and all is well in Dean's world. He feels that something is wrong with everything, but he can't help but be happy to have gone on a hunt with his brother and parents. They all leave, heading back to their home in Lawrence. They pull into the driveway, and Dean glances over the house which feels like it should look different. Shaking off the weird feelings he's been having all day, he shuts the door to the Impala. Sam leans on his Mustang, looking confused. "Dean... you're driveway is right across the street, I think you can walk that far." he says with a concerned laugh. Dean nods and smiles, before backing out and into the driveway Sam had pointed out. Sam waves him over heading into the house they grew up in.

"Just uh... one second!" he calls, heading for his own front door. Sam shrugs, and Dean unlocks his front door with one of the keys on his key ring. He enters the sparsely furnished living room. All over the house, its very clear he lives alone. He isn't sure why he suddenly finds himself wishing it were different. He'd always been a loner. He pulls the front door behind him, and jogs across the street to talk to his parents.

Cat slowly forces herself into a crouching position, desperately trying to stand. Her legs muscles protest as she uses only them to move herself. Her hands are pulling the rope tightly against the beam, and her hope is that she can use friction against the beam to wear down the rope. She finally gets to a standing position and works her arms up and down, groaning as the rope bites into and rubs the skin around her wrists. She hears steps in the distance, and works harder in hopes of escaping by the time whoever it is enters. Her hope doesn't pan out, and she sees herself walk in, wearing her black pencil skirt and a top that Cat never wears outside of money making. It was a black stretchy halter top with a sweetheart neckline. It hugged her curves and put everything on display. Including her size C breasts. Cat glares at the shifter, who struts across the room in her four and a half inch heels. Slut clothes, Cat deems the outfit. "Who knew you had such fun things to wear, hunter." the shifter states in Cat's voice. Cat refuses to say anything. "You're not like some of the other hunters I've strung up, of course, you aren't much of a hunter at all. Its irony really, that you're a hunter." Cat ignores the shifter, knowing it was trying to get a rise out of her. Cat's cell phone rings. "You're in town? Great, I'll meet you there," not-Cat says into the phone. She smirks at the mostly naked Cat. "Time to get your friend. I'm going to call every hunter you know, and lure them to their deaths." With this, the smile turns into a sneer, and Cat decides never to make that face again.

"If you don't put on hunter clothes Bobby is gonna know what's up." Cat finally states. The shifter frowns, seeming to enjoy the clothing.

"Whatever. I'll just tell him I was playing the cards or something." The shifter leaves, and Cat gets back to work on the ropes.

Dean flops into the big empty bed, and stares at his ceiling. His phone starts chiming beside him, and he answers it without checking the ID. "Yep?" he states. The voice that laughs at the other end is distinctly feminine, and has a nice ring to it.

"Hey, you're back from your hunt right?" she asks. Dean's eyes narrow, and he confirms with caution. "Great, meet me at the hotel. I've already got our room reserved." she states hurridly.

"What hotel?" he asks slowly. Her voice is frustrated as she tells him.

"You need to hurry," she states, hanging up the phone. Dean drops his phone on the bed, sitting up. Weirdest booty call ever. He checks the name. Cat. It sounds vaguely familiar in a way he doesn't think it should. He stands, and tucks a gun into the back of his jeans, pulling on a plaid over shirt and heading out to the Impala. He rumbles out of the driveway and to the place she told him to meet her. He walks the concierge who rolls his eyes as he hands Dean a key.

"If you wreck the room again, tell her she isn't getting her deposit back. Ever." the man tells Dean. He shrugs it off, heading up to the room number on the key. He opens the door, and isn't surprised to see the blonde cross the room quickly. He takes her in, short skirt falling halfway down her thighs, tightly fitted tank top. Her hair falls over her shoulders, ends just reaching her chest. Her green eyes lock on his. He finds himself against the door with the force of her kiss, and his hands fall to her waist pulling her body against his. Of everything that felt weird to him today, this was the only thing that doesn't. His hands slide down her hips, and his hands cup her ass, lifting her. She wraps her legs around his hips, and he carries her to the bed. He drops her down, and pulls his shirts over his head, kicking off his shoes. His gun clatters to the floor and he ignores it. He crawls on top of her, moving in for another kiss. He rolls them, fingers moving under the hem of her shirt and pulling it with them as his fingers move up her sides. He frowns, seeing a large white bandage covering a spot on her stomach. Red covered the middle of the bandage.

"You're injured," he says, finding his tone accusing. She rolls her eyes, and her hands fall to her hips. She doesn't move away from him.

"That's kind of the point," she deadpans. Then she leans down to capture one of his lips between her teeth. Her hands trail to his waist and unbutton his pants. He kicks them off and he meets her eyes again. They seem to glow, like neon. He shoves her off of him on instinct, rolling off of the bed. "What the hell is it this time Dean?" she growls. Her neon eyes slowly fade to a normal green.

"You're eyes." he says nastily. He'd stepped towards the gun, and would be able to grab it quickly. She rolls her normal looking eyes.

"This again. I thought you'd gotten over that." she shoots back at him. This makes him pause, and he wracks his brain. He feels like he both knows why, and doesn't. But he definitely knows they've slept together before. Her legs cross primly, and his eyes follow the creamy skin to her black lacy lingerie. His feet move without his permission, and she scoots back into the bed. He joins her.

Cat finally manages to snap the ropes at her wrists. She brings her aching arms in front of her, untying the loops from her wrists and examining the damage. Deep rope burns trickle blood. Cat stretches her shoulders, and moves from the beam. In one corner, her bags lay. She digs through, finding a pair of jeans and a tank top with a long sleeve plaid shirt. Hunter clothes. She finds that anything silver has been removed from her weapons, so she settles for the .45. She loads it with lead bullets. It wouldn't do any real damage but the hope is it slows the shifter down. She also grabs the nightstick from the bottom of her clothing bag. She wraps her hand around the handle, holding the rest of the baton against her arm. She tucks the gun into the waistband of her jeans, and climbs the ladder. She finds the exit there blocked, or locked. She gets down, heading for the tunnels. Her feet are still bare and she shivers as the cold causes her to shiver yet again. She hears multiple sets of footsteps and turns herself against a wall, hoping she wouldn't be seen. She adjusts her grip on the nightstick, holding it like a club. She sees the shifter enter, and hits her hard in the face with the bat. She goes down with a curse. Bobby was with the shifter and stares at her. Cat drops her foot against the shifter's ribs. Bobby acts then, drawing a gun and firing into Cat's shoulder. A scream rips through her and she clutches her shoulder. It was a flesh wound she knew. The gun is still pointing at her, as Bobby holds out a hand to help the shifter from the ground. "That's the shifter. I told you she put my face on," not-Cat states, wiping blood from her face with her shoulder. Cat glares. Cat pulls the gun from her waistband and aims it at the shifter.

"Bobby," she calls out. His eyes narrow at her and she holds out her arm. "Test me, I'm the real Cat." Bobby glances at the fake beside him, who is scowling. Bobby pulls a silver knife from his belt, and Cat steps closer. She knew the bullet she'd been tagged with was silver, but it was through and through and wouldn't cause a shifter too much trouble. As the knife reaches her arm and slices through, the shifter punches Bobby in the back of the head. He stumbles forward, and Cat steadies him. The shifter turns and starts running down the tunnel. Cat grabs the gun from Bobby and chases after it. She gets a clear shot, and two blasts rip through the air. The shifter tumbles to the ground, two in the back. For sure one of them was a heart shot. The other was at least close. Cat returns to Bobby, to find that he has his bearings back. They gather her stuff, and head for the surface.

"Sorry I shot ya," he says gruffly.

Dean wakes up in the hotel bed, arms around Cat. He looks around the room at the mess. He wouldn't say they wrecked it... but it wasn't in pristine condition either. She feels him move beneath his arm, and he pulls it away, sitting up. They'd pulled their underwear on before going to sleep, so they weren't completely naked. She sat up too, stretching. Dean yawns, feeling like he could use a few more hours, but the sun was blaring through the window. The clock displayed that it was almost noon. She tosses him a smile, and stands. She peels the bandage from her stomach and he gapes to find there isn't a wound. She seems satisfied as she drops the bandage in the trash. She pulls her clothes on, waves at him, and leaves the hotel room. Dean stares after her in surprise.

Dean pulls into his driveway, and slams on his brakes to avoid the girl standing there. She's dressed in white, shirt, shoes and skirt all plain looking. He gets out of his car, but in the second he'd looked away, she was gone. He finishes moving his car, and then heads across the street. Sam's Mustang was in the driveway, so obviously everyone was home.

They are in the restaurant celebrating Mary's birthday. "I'm really sorry Madison couldn't make it," Sam is saying. "Her boss changed his mind about letting her have the day off." Mary smiled, patting him on the hand.

"When are you gonna introduce us to whoever you're meeting in the middle of the night?" John asks Dean. He freezes. His feelings conflict. On one side, he feels like he's always honest with his dad. But on the other side, he feels like he isn't. And that he isn't telling them about Cat.

"Different chicks," Dean offers. He goes to take another bite, when his eyes spot the girl in white. She looks dirtier than before. He stands to go talk to her, but by the time he reaches where she was, she was gone. He turns back to his family, and decides to tell them what was going on. In that moment, it all came back to him. The hunt for the Djinn. That this wasn't real.

The family of four pulls up in the Impala. They are in front of the abandoned building from before. They enter slowly, holding knives dipped in lamb's blood. They find the girl Dean had been seeing, and several others. They find the Djinn. And eventually, Dean realizes what he has to do. As he turns the knife on himself, his family begins shouting at him to stop. "I'm sorry," he tells them.

"DEAN!" he hears. Everything is foggy. He finds himself hanging from the ceiling like the other girls. Sam is approaching him.

"Ah... Auntie Em. There's no place like home," Dean jokes, consciousness fading in and out. Sam begins to free Dean, and then the Djinn appears. Sam and the Djinn fight, while Dean struggles to free himself. Just as the Djinn is about to touch Sam's face, Dean plunges the knife into its back.

 _ **So there. This was an abolute bear to write to let you know. And hopefully you enjoyed everything or at least most of the things I did with this chapter. Would really love some feedback I worked really hard to bring this to you! Thanks for reading!**_


	13. All Hell Breaks Loose

_**Ok here's the deal. I'm using a laptop to update now, but as of the moment, Wordpad is my option for documents. So I'm so extremely sorry for every spelling and grammar mistake I make. It's been a while since I had to edit myself. Shout out to the guest reviewer who loved Chapter 10, hope they are still reading. And to the guest reviewer for Chapter 11. And I would like to thank wideawakepastmidnight again. 13 chapters seems like a good place to pause and remind people that I do not own Supernatural, any of the characters, actors, or themes. I do however possess Cat Collins. A warning, as the first part of this chapter is very dialogue oriented. I don't like it, but there's just a lot of talking this episode.**_

Chapter 13: All Hell Breaks Loose

Bobby is removing the stitches from the gunshot wound he gave me, when the phone started ringing. He hands me the scissors and grabs the cell phone he'd set beside us. "Hello?" he answers. He holds the phone against his shoulder and sets back to work pulling thread from my shoulder. The wound wasn't all the way healed, but enough that I wouldn't bleed everywhere again, so I'd forced the issue.  
Whatever the other person was saying, it was enough for Bobby to literally drop the scissors into my lap. His eyes meet mine, and he stands up, dashing to the closet for his shoes. He waves a hand at me, and I follow suit, slipping into my tennis shoes, and tugging on a flannel long sleeve button up over my tank top. I heard Bobby muttering into the phone, but he was being quiet about it. Suddenly, my bags fly through the air at me. I catch them, glaring at Bobby for not giving me a warning. He grabs my keys off of the coffee table, and I follow him out the door to my car. Bobby gets in the driver's seat, and I let him. Holding my right arm up and steady for any amount of time caused it to ache and remind me of the stupid Shifter. Bobby peals out of the salvage yard, tossing the phone onto my lap. The call had ended, but I could still see who made the call. Dean Winchester.

We are parked on the side of the highway. We'd met up with Dean, and I watched him and Bobby go over a map I hadn't seen Bobby grab. "This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month." Bobby said. I took a closer look at the map. It was blank, just a regular atlas.  
"Are you joking? There's nothing here." Dean states. Bobby replies his agreement. "Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the, the, the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing." Dean questions. The look on Bobby's face was answer enough.  
"That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet." I watched Dean card a hand through his hair roughly. I almost reach out to him, but I think better of it.  
"Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?" His phone starts ringing, and I almost let myself hope it was Sam. Dean speaks with someone named Ash briefly. He sounded frustrated and my guess was another contact striking out on getting a bead on Sam's location. After he hangs up, he looks back at me and Bobby. "Guess we're going to the Roadhouse. Come on." I go to get in my car, but Bobby shakes his head at me.  
"I'll have a buddy of mine come tow it back to the yard. Just grab everything you can, and lets ride with Dean." I nodded, popping my trunk and shoving everything into the bags I kept in the top part of the trunk for just this occassion. Bobby helps me carry the bags to Dean's waiting trunk, and I lock my car up, hoping it doesn't get stolen before Bobby's friend gets to it. I climb into the backseat. I see Bobby say something to Dean, who then hands Bobby the Impala keys. My eyes narrow, and Dean slides into the backseat with me. Bobby gets in the driver's seat, leans over to reach in the glove compartment, and hands something to Dean. Dean unrolls it, and I stare at the little tool set. Dean pulls out tweezers and little scissors and I realize Bobby asked him to finish with my stitches. I remove the flannel shirt, and I catch Dean's eyes follow my movements. I brush it off, and turn sideways in the seat facing him. His eyes travel to the healing gunshot wound.  
"Bobby said he shot you," Dean stated. I knew it was a question of why. I didn't really want to tell him. I didn't want him to start back on me not hunting. But I did it anyways.  
"I went after a Shapeshifter. I wanted to make it a fast hunt. So instead of checking things out, I immediately went to where I knew it would be. The old sewer system. But I hadn't anticipated the trap. It was smart. Left a trail of skin down the wrong tunnel. I'm guessing it had been hunted before. Along the way, I must have made some noise. It snuck up behind me, and I was down before I knew it. I woke up mostly naked, with my own face staring at me. It had tied me up to a beam, got rid of my silver and thrown my bag into a corner. It went to live it up in my body, I'm guessing clubbing. Then she called Bobby. Had him 'come help her find the Shifter'. With a lot of effort, I managed to get free, but Bobby was already there, and the shifter had brought him down. I had grabbed a gun, and I aimed at the Shifter, meaning to slow it down or something but Bobby shot me in the shoulder instead. Of course he felt terrible when he realized it was the Shifter beside him and not me, but I did kind of look crazy at the time. But I managed to kill the shifter and Bobby sewed me up. I didn't leave the yard til you called, so don't go telling me about healing up or whatever." He scowled at me, and leaned forward to work on the stitches in my shoulder. I tried to ignore the fact that he was so close to me. But it was either think about him or the painful tugging in my shoulder. I was probably blushing by the time he finished. His eyes flick to my face, then away. I turn back in my seat.  
"I really wish you would quit hunting. You're terrible at it." he said half-heartedly. I got the silent message. It was 'but I'm glad you are, so you can help me find Sammy.' I smiled at him briefly, before letting my gaze go out the window, watching the miles fly passed.

We turn the corner, to find an empty, burned out lot. From the looks on their faces, my guess was that this was once the Roadhouse they were talking about. We all got out of the car, and walked into the charred remains, digging through ash and debris. "Oh my God," I hear Bobby mutter.  
"You see Ellen?" Dean calls.  
"No, no Ash either." Bobby replies. I see a watch on the ground and a corpse hand attached. I waved Dean over. He crouches, tugging on the watch and moving the hand attached.  
"Oh, Ash. Damnit!" Dean exclaims, standing and brushing his hands against his jeans. He rubbed his face and I could see how upset he was. I glanced around the charred building and sighed. "What the hell did Ash know? We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?" We begin to walk back to the car. Dean clutches his head in pain, the groaning and doubling over. I grab his arm to steady him, but just as soon as I do, it seemed to have stopped.  
"What the hell was that?" Bobby asked Dean and I nodded my approval of the question. They talk about headaches and stress and I sort of zone them out, wishing I knew how to help more. Dean falls against the Impala, holding his head once again. "Dean, Dean you with us?" Bobby questions.  
"Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him, Bobby." My eyes widen at that, and I rest my hand on Dean's shoulder.  
"So it was a vision," I concluded.  
"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels." Dean continued to lean on the Impala, hands flat against the hood. His breathing was ragged and he looked really wiped out.  
"What else did you see?" Bobby asked. Dean made an attempt to describe a bell, and Bobby interupted. "Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?" When Dean nodded, Bobby continued. "I know where Sam is." We pile back into the Impala, Bobby once again driving and explaining on the way. About Cold Oak, South Dakota, how it was so haunted, that everyone had to leave.

We arrive at the edge of the woods after dark. I get out of the car after Dean and Bobby, and grab for my guns. "No." I hear. I meet his gaze. "Absolutely not. You aren't coming." he states. I go to protest but he cuts me off. "I don't have time to argue with you!" he nearly shouts at me. I flinch in shock. I sling my bag over my shoulder, pull out a gun, and lean back against the Impala, hands up.  
"I'll stay." I said quietly. Dean slams down the trunk lid, an sets out through the trees. Bobby also gives me a firm 'stay here' look, and follows. They move at a quick clip, and soon, I can't see them in the dark. I pull a flashlight from my bag. I doubted anyone would get in behind them, but I would be prepared if they did. I wait for a while in the dark, not hearing any gunshots. I decide to ignore Bobby and Dean's 'requests' and start picking my way through the trees. I reach the edge of the trees and look out onto a field. I see figures crouched on the ground. My blood freezes as I hear Dean shout.  
"SAM!" Dean's voice echos across the field and the thunder follows ominously.

We'd taken Sam's body to an old house nearby. Sam is laid out on an unmade bed, and I watch Dean watch him. Bobby enters the house with a bucket of chicken. Dean refuses the food. This isn't the first time. I step outside for some fresh air, brushing tears from my face. I hadn't even realized I was crying again. It was seconds after I left, that I hear their voices raising. I stepped back into the house in time to hear Dean shout to let the world end. "You don't mean that," I said softly. Apparently I'd taken the words from Bobby's mouth. Dean stands, face to face with Bobby. He passes a glare between the two of us.  
"You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around, and get the hell out of here." he said. He'd aimed the last statement at Bobby. Until I'd said that, I'd been quiet the whole time. He didn't seem to mind my presense as much. I wasn't a reminder that we'd have to bury Sam's body soon. Suddenly, Dean shoves Bobby, yelling for him to leave. After a second, he adds, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just go." Bobby turns and sighs, saying his goodbyes. He passes me a meaningful look, and leaves the house. I see a tear roll down Dean's face as his gaze returns to his brother. I come up behind him slowly, my arms snaking around and crossing over his stomach. I bury my face in between his shoulder blades. After a minute or so, he brings his hand up to push my arms away. He moves over to the chair and sits down. I turn from the room, leaning against the wall with my head back.  
"You know, when we were little— and you couldn't been more than 5— you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, "Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know."  
"I just wanted you to be a kid... Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you... Keep you safe... Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job... I had one job...  
And I screwed it up." Dean pauses, and I furiously scrub at the tears on my face, trying to make them stop. "I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry." Dean pauses again, and I glance around the corner to see him wipe at his own face.  
"I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do? Sammy. God. What am I supposed to do?" I hear the sharp intake of his breath, the scrape of the chair across the floor as he stands. It doesn't stop me from flinching when he shouts, "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" I hear him kick the floor, and he storms out from the room. He turns to me at the doorway. "You watch him," he grinds out, and leaves, slamming the door to the house, and the Impala.

I don't know how long I've been sitting in the chair previously occupied by Dean. I know I've been crying, I can see the wet drops on my pants legs. I reach forward to grab Sam's hand, holding onto the cold skin. I lean my head down to rest on my forearms, openly sobbing. Sam's hand suddenly clenches hard against mine. I half scream, half squeak, both from fright, and the pain. I look up, to see his eyes open. He sits up, looking around, and I can see the confusion in his eyes. I'm confused too. "Sam?" my voice breaks as I say his name. His eyes are wild as they meet mine, and they calm.  
"What's going on?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders, but stand. I help him do the same.  
"I don't know, but lets get somewhere with running water ok?" I sniffle a little and head for the door. My car was sitting in the lot, and I silently thanked Bobby for having it towed there yesterday. I help Sam in. "I'll be right back ok? I'm just gonna grab all of our stuff." I dash back in, throwing all personal items into bags, and then grabbing some food for Sam. I head out, hand him the food and throw everything else in the back seat. Then I reverse out of the driveway, and head for town.

I return from the front desk of the motel, having gone up and paid out a few days, and then she carried all of the stuff into the room, with Sam following. She let him take the first shower, and tossed Dean's bag on Sam's bed. She sent Dean a quick text. **'Dean...Sam's alive. I don't know how, but he woke up. We're at the motel along the highway. We passed it coming in if you remember.'** I sent the message, and didn't bother waiting for a reply. I knew he wouldn't send one. He'd hop into the Impala from wherever he was, and speed his way over. When Sam exits the shower, I go in, and I take my time with what remained of the hot water. I rubbed my face, hoping the red puffiness would go away. I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel, embarrased to find I'd forgotten to bring in clean clothes. I opened the door a crack and peeked out. Sam was checking out his back in the mirror. I stepped out and to my bed, which was closest to the bathroom. I hear the door open. I'd left it unlocked for Dean. My face reddens before he even steps into the room. Thankfully, he pays me no mind, crossing straight to Sam. "Sammy? Thank God," he says, embracing Sam. I excuse myself from their moment, and head back into the bathroom to change, and do the whole bathroom routine of getting ready for the day.  
When I come out of the bathroom they are gone. I almost panic, thinking Dean had just taken off with Sam, but all of their stuff was still on their bed. I go through the process of organizing my stuff taking care to have it all straight and put out. Even with the bathroom stuff. By the time I finished that, they still weren't back. So I turned on the TV, to check the news. It was probably a half an hour before they showed up, carrying pizzas and beer. I stepped over to the table, and sat down, grabbed a slice, and curled my feet into the chair. A soda was sat in front of me, and I looked up to catch Dean's eyes as he looked away. I thanked him, and we all went back to eating. "So uh, Cat, why didn't you tell Sammy what happened to him?" Dean asked. I raised my eyebrow at him.  
"Because every time he asked, I started crying," I stated with a pointed look at Dean. I went back to eating. Dean gave a short nod, and then turned to Sam.  
"So what happened before we showed up?" Dean asked. Sam took a deep breath. And then he started.

When we were all done with the food and Sam's story, we loaded up to head to Bobby's. I followed behind them, and while I did, I thought long and hard about how Sam could have woke up. And I couldn't figure it out. I made a mental note to pull Bobby aside and ask him, and then I turned all of my attention back to keeping up with Dean's driving. Really, the man sped way more than the situation called for.  
I pull in and park behind them, hopping out and following them to the porch. Sam knocks, and seconds later Bobby opens the door. My bet was that he hadn't left the house, waiting for me or Dean to show up. The look on his face when he saw Sam though. Clearly he was shocked. We all greeted Bobby, and I went passed them all into the house. I heard Sam thank Bobby for patching him up, and I was glad I hadn't stayed outside for Sam to hear me scoff. I headed over to the kitchen, and across the table was spread with maps. They were covered in indications of activity. Sam, Dean, and Bobby came in about a minute or two after. I listened to them talk about the demonic omens. And I realized that I really don't know anything about demons yet. I tried to pay attention, so I could add the information to my journals later.  
Dean and Bobby left, and I crept after them. I hid just within hearing distance, and heard Dean tell Bobby he only had a year left to live. I stumbled, sending scraps of something skittering across the path. Busted I stepped out. I wouldn't look at Dean, but Bobby looked just as upset as I was. More sounds started from further back. "Its not me this time," I muttered. We got down beside a car. The sounds got closer, and Dean pops out, and grabs the intruder by the shoulders. They must have recognized her, because Dean hugs her. It was Ellen, from the Roadhouse.

I stirred the pot of soup in the kitchen, and turned back to the conversation. Ellen was telling them about the Roadhouse, and about some safe. Then she pulled out a map. The map had several x's marked on it. "Wyoming, what does that mean?" Dean asks. Bobby and I hit the books, looking for anything on Wyoming. A little while later, I hear Bobby utter his disbelief. I move into the kitchen after him, dropping my book where I'd sat.  
"What, you got something?" Sam asks. Bobby sets the book down on the table.  
" A lot more than that. Each of these X's," he says, pointing to the marks on the map, "Is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt."  
"Samuel Colt— the demon-killing, gunmaking Samuel Colt?" Dean questions.  
"Yep. And there's more. He built private railway ," He points to the black lines on the map," connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this." He connects the points on the map with a marker until the shape of a star is made. I hear them talk about something called a Devil's Trap. It was a star shape on the map. But something about it, kept demons in. Or out. And then their discussing what could be inside it, whether or not the demons could get in.  
"This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it. No way a full-blood demon gets across." Bobby states.  
"No," Sam starts, "But I know who could." Sam gets up, and he tells Bobby and Ellen about Jake, the guy who stabbed him. Everyone starts gearing up, holy water, salt guns. Even I do. As I pick up a shotgun, Dean yanks it from my hands. He advances on me, backing me into the wall. He towers over me, glaring.  
"Dean, let me help," I plead. His brooding eyes stare down at mine. I can feel everyone's eyes on us.  
"No. You've never even seen a demon, let alone fought one have you?" he asks. My silence was his answer. He steps away, thinking I was defeated. But I just planned to follow them. I watched them head out the door. They loaded everything into the Impala. Dean said something to Bobby, then headed back towards me in the house. I turned from the window, and faced Dean. Dean gathered all of the maps from the table, and set them on the chair beside him. He advanced on me again. He didn't stop when my back hit the wall. He grabbed my shoulders, holding me in place. He glared down at me for a minute, leaned down, and kissed me. He let go of my shoulders to squeeze my hips, and pull my lower body against him. My hands threaded through his short hair. He picked me up under my thighs, using the wall to support my. I couldn't help the moan that escaped me, when his lips trailed to my neck. And then he was putting me down, grabbing the maps, and leaving the room, like nothing had happened. I leaned against the wall, catching my breath. And I listened to the Impala roar away.  
I stepped out, bag in hand, and stopped as I noticed my back tires were slashed. Undetered, I dropped my bag in the passenger seat, pulled out a jack, and changed the tires. I knew I was behind, and I didn't have a map to guide me anymore, so I'd have to hurry if I wanted to follow them. I got in my seat, turned the key, and nothing. My car didn't even try to turn over. Frustrated, I popped the hood. No battery. And even if I found a working battery in the lot, my spark plugs were gone too. I dropped to the ground, slamming my palm into the dirt. Dean wasn't kissing me goodbye. He was distracting me while Bobby thoroughly disabled my poor car. I would never catch them.

 _ **Ok. So I have no idea how long this chapter is. I'm assuming its longer than most. I'll see when I post it. Again, apologies for spelling/grammar mistakes. Also, if you have noticed, I pulled a lot of lines straight from the show. I use the Supernatural wiki, which has transcripts of every episode from every season, up to 11.3. I use this and Netflix in order to write. Just thought I'd put that out there for anyone who just uses the episodes to write. I love transcripts.**_


	14. The Magnificent Seven, Part 1

_**So I got a new follower from Chapter 13. I keep hoping for responses but I'm not going to let that stop me from posting. I'm going to continue to post until this is done. I just have to settle with knowing that I really like the way Chapter 13 ended. Here we see a slight altering of the storyline.**_

Chapter 14: The Magnificent Seven, Part 1

*Then*

I stepped out, bag in hand, and stopped as I noticed my back tires were slashed. Undetered, I dropped my bag in the passenger seat, pulled out a jack, and changed the tires. I knew I was behind, and I didn't have a map to guide me anymore, so I'd have to hurry if I wanted to follow them. I got in my seat, turned the key, and nothing. My car didn't even try to turn over. Frustrated, I popped the hood. No battery. And even if I found a working battery in the lot, my spark plugs were gone too. I dropped to the ground, slamming my palm into the dirt. Dean wasn't kissing me goodbye. He was distracting me while Bobby thoroughly disabled my poor car. I would never catch them.

*Now*

It was late. I was pacing. They'd been gone for a long time, and I hadn't heard a thing. The lights begin to flicker, and I pick up my shotgun. I pull aside the curtains, and look out the window. My eyes scan across the grounds, searching for movement. My eyes raise to the sky, and my eyes widen in horror. A black mass of smoke worms its way across the sky. And that was the word for it. Even though it moved as one, the smoke moved differently. Sections of it moved independently of each other, and they separated and came together. I thought about what Dean had said. A gate to hell. They failed. It had opened. And what flew through the air had to be demons. I stepped back, allowing the curtain to fall into place. I rushed into the kitchen, and grabbed salt, lining all of the windows and doorways.  
Only when I was done, did my feet drag me to my cell phone on the coffee table. As if on cue, it started vibrating. Hesitantly, I picked up. "Cat, salt the windows, salt everything," Dean's voice greeted. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't open the door for anyone. We're on our way back." he informed her.

"Everything's already salted. I... how did it go?" I asked softly. I could almost hear Dean roll his eyes. "I mean, obviously it didn't go well. I'm just... are you...is anyone hurt?" I found myself asking.

"Yellow-eyes is dead." Was Dean's reply. "We're estimating a number around 200 of demons that are on the surface now. We don't know how bad. Look, we'll talk more when we get there. In the meantime, Bobby has something he needs you to do." I heard sounds of the phone being passed over.

"Cat, in the silverware drawer, under the false bottom, is the key to the top right drawer of my desk. There's a book. It's a list of all of the hunters that I know. Call 'em. Let 'em know about the demons. And have them spread the word. Its gonna be all hands on deck." I found the book, and said good bye to Bobby. I had work to do.

About an hour and a half in, I heard knocking. I had the cordless phone with me, so I stepped towards the door. "Hang on Mack," I told the hunter I was speaking to. "There's someone at the door." I picked up my shotgun in one hand, and held the phone with the other. I used the end of the barrel to push aside the curtains near the door. The person outside was bleeding. They pounded on the door again. It looked like one of the people I'd seen around town. I stepped back, and quietly moved to the kitchen. "Christ they're here," I muttered into the phone. Mack swore with me. "Call all of the hunters you know, spread the word. I'm going into the panic room." I got off the phone, as the pounding got louder and more persistent, and I dialed Dean's number quickly. Sam answered on the fourth ring. "Sam... there's someone from the town here. They're hurt. I... I think they may be a demon. I'm headed to the panic room. Just... hurry." I didn't wait for his response. I hung up the phone, opened the heavy iron door, and stepped in. I pulled it closed behind me, and sat down on the bed. I clutched the shotgun, and settled in to wait.  
~

I must have fallen asleep. I jolted awake and the shotgun clattered to the floor. I stayed still, to listen for what woke me. There was footsteps, heading down the stairs. My breath caught, and I lurched off of the bed, and grabbed the shotgun. I aimed at the door, finger loosely held over the trigger. "Cat?!" I heard a voice call out. Relieved, I opened the panic room door to reveal Bobby. I tossed him a flask. He smiled at me, and tipped back the holy water. When he was done, I rushed out and hugged him, leaving the gun behind. We headed up the stairs. "Dean and Sam are out back, burying the demon that was trying to find its way in." Bobby informed me. I saw Ellen in the kitchen, pouring herself a shot of what looked like whiskey.

After a while, the boys joined us, covered in dirt. We all sat at the table. "So, where are we starting?" Bobby asked them. Sam drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Everyone at the table looked defeated almost.

"We gotta train Cat," Sam stated. Dean shot a glare at him. "Its like Bobby said, all hands on deck. And Cat is a hunter, like it or not. Just because she's a girl, or because she's not much of a hunter doesn't mean that we don't need every able bodied person out there helping us get this son of a bitches." I heard myself start to protest at Sam's quick dismissal of me, but he was right. I'm not great at being a hunter, and I'm certainly prone to getting myself hurt. "We can do it on the road. Teach her as we go. Follow the signs. It's gonna take forever to get around if we keep coming back here as home base."

"No." Dean cut in. "Bobby is gonna be out there with us, which means no one is gonna be here, checking signs, gathering intel. Just because there's a new demon horde, doesn't mean that the monsters are gonna stop going bump in the night. Cat's gonna stay here, man the phones, do Bobby's job." I actually did protest that, standing up, and slamming my hands down on the table.

"You don't get to just idly discuss my 'orders' with me sitting here. I'm an adult don't forget. I can make my own decisions." They seemed almost surprised by my outburst, and I took the opportunity to storm off out the back door, and over to the garage, where Bobby had towed my car so it could be fixed. I threw open the door, and slid into the back seat, leaning against the door and tossing my feet between the front seats so I was at an angle. I sat there for a while, head tilted back, eyes closed. I didn't have to open my eyes to know who it was when the door opened, and someone joined me. "You're an asshole, you know that?" he chuckled in response. "Having Bobby trash my car while you distracted me. Real good of you," I stated, finally opening my eyes to glare at him. He met my gaze stoically, before looking away.

"Its, uh, not that I think you're a bad hunter." He stated simply. "I just think you're in over your head. There's a lot you don't know. You didn't grow up into this like we did. Sam and I have been trained for this all our lives. You... I don't even know why you hunt." Dean trailed off. He'd never asked me that before. No one had.

"Same reason as everyone else, I'm betting," I told him. "I suffered a loss, and discovered a whole new world. I hunt, because I don't want others to lose people too." We stayed silent for a little while, and I could practically hear his internal debate of whether or not to ask. "I lost both of my parents. They were killed by...something . I came home from...work, to find their bodies." My head fell back against the window, and I looked up and through the window at the sky. After a while, I returned my gaze to Dean. "If you want me to stay here, I will. But... demons have already been here. I think they've ignored this place because we hunters have always fought monsters. But if we start killing demons, I am betting they are gonna make a trip. I still need training." Dean seemed to think it over before nodding.

Its been a week since the night in the car, where I told Dean about my parents. In that time, I have done more physical training than I can ever remember doing in a week. The results weren't much and I still had to continue my daily regimen after they all left to go hunting, but I was a little stronger, a little faster, and my aim had improved too. Currently, Dean and I were duking it out in the panic room, thick rubber mats rolled across the floor. Apparently they'd been liberated from a local gym. I lunged, and Dean knocked me on my ass, yet again. This time, I rolled into him, taking out his legs. He went down on his knees, and I scrambled up enough to tackle him. His eyes read a bit of approval. I sat up, not moving off of him, enjoying my victory. My mouth had other ideas. "You know... I imagined us getting hot and sweaty in entirely different circumstances."

Dean's eyes flicked to mine, and he pushed me away from him. I fell back on the mat and he hopped up to his feet. "Why do you always have to do that?" he asked me. I considered feigning ignorance to the blatant innuendo, but instead, I answered honestly.

"It's in my nature I guess," I picked myself up off of the ground, not noticing the way Dean froze. I headed over to my water bottle and took a deep drink, preparing for another round.

Dean watched Cat debate the answer to his question. Finally she'd stated, "It's in my nature I guess," before standing up. Dean's eyes followed her, but it wasn't really her he was seeing. It was the Cat from his fantasy land, from his time with the Djinn. The Cat that was a monster with glowing green eyes, claiming to be a Succubus. Which meant that sex was her nature. Dean shook his head, to clear his thoughts, before returning to fight her. If she was a monster, they would have known by now. That fantasy was screwing with his head, it hadn't ever stopped. That kiss, before they went to the hell gate, part of him confused it with the rough kiss shared in his fantasy. He had to get out of the situation he'd put himself in. Cat may be attractive, and she may be someone Dean can be honest with about the life, but she was naive, and she would die if she kept herself out in harm's way.

Our next match was brutal, but by the end of it, sore as I was, I felt like I must be doing at least a little better. We headed up the stairs, Dean hitting the showers first, and me heading to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. Bobby was there, and him and Sam were going over a map. "I've got something," Bobby tells her as she joins them. "It's not much, but its a start." This hunt, would be my test. We'd go out, hunt the demons, and after that, they were leaving me here. I could only hope that I was ready.

 _ **I honestly hadn't expected to do so much of the scenes after the end of Season 2 in this one. I'd planned on a short scene and then straight into Magnificent Seven. But this chapter had other plans and this came out. Next chapter is Cat's first demon hunt.**_


	15. The Magnificent Seven, Part 2

_**Ok so been a bit of a pause since last chapter. I'd planned on starting this the day after I posted the other one but it didn't work out like that.**_

Chapter 15: Magnificent Seven Part 2

We pull up outside of a farmhouse, that seemed to be ground zero of the signs. Cicadas could be heard all around. After a quick comment about the biblical plague, Dean begins pounding on the door, shouting, "Candygram!" There was no answer. Dean crouches down to pick the lock, and after a second, he turns the knob, swinging the door in. Immediately I clap my hand over my nose, blocking out some of the horrible stench that had permeated the air. "That can't be a good sign," Dean states. He steps through the door, and I follow, my gun drawn. Faintly I hear the sounds of panicked screams. We all share a look, and Dean and Sam kick in the next door together. The sound had come from the television, an episode of "Dallas" playing. A family of three is sat on the couch, long dead. I have to exit the room, and I head to the trash bin in the kitchen, leaning over to empty the contents of my stomach. "Hey Cat check for sulfur while you're in there!" Dean calls out to me. I scan the room, around the windows and in the corners.

While I'm searching, I hear a noise out front. Apparently Dean heard it too, because he catches my attention, and indicates that I should follow him and check it out. I see Bobby and Sam heading around the back. We head around the house, me keeping an eye behind us. As we round the corner, I hear Dean grunt. I turned, switching into action mode. A big man comes around the corner holding a shotgun. As he moves to aim at me, I move to the side and forward, kicking him in the stomach to move him back, and disarm him. I aim his gun at him, and then I'm greeted by a woman with a gun. Bobby and Sam come around the corner finally, and Bobby seems to recognize the duo. "Bobby. What the hell are you doing here?" the woman, Tamara, asks.

"I could ask the same," he replies. The man, Isaac, greets Bobby, a hand placed to his stomach where I'd kicked him. Dean raises his arm from the ground pitifully, waving for attention.

"Hello. Bleeding here." I grab his arm, and pull hard, helping him get to his feet. We all head to the cars, Bobby joins Isaac and Tamara in theirs, and Sam drives the Impala while I patch up Dean's head. It was only a small cut above his left eyebrow, but if he was gonna be a baby about it he would get a band-aid.

We arrive at Issac and Tamara's place and Dean heads into the bathroom, presumably to make sure I did a good job, and to chat with the coroner's tech. I lean against one of the walls in the place while I listen to Isaac and Tamara chat about Palo Santo. I make myself a mental note. "So how long have you two been married?" I ask. Tamara smiles at me.

"Eight years this past June." she replies.

"The family that slays together..." Issac jokes. I laugh a little at that. Sam makes things awkward, asking about their hunting origin story. Even I don't like sharing mine. Dean comes out of the bathroom, hanging up his phone.

"Get this – that whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up." I thought back to the house.

"That doesn't make sense. The kitchen was full of food. Why would they just starve?" I ask. Dean shrugs in response. "Well, what now? What should we do?"

"Uh,.. "we're" not gonna do anything." Isaac states. I kept quiet as Issac blamed Sam and Dean for the Devil's Gate. And after a few more biting remarks passed back and forth, Isaac and Tamara leave the room. After night falls, we all settle down to get some rest. I watch Bobby check out the window, and the close the curtains.

"So I guess not all hunters get along," I state. The three men just shoot me a look, quelling the conversation I was trying to start. Instead, I rolled over in my sleeping bag on the floor, and closed my eyes to attempt some sleep.

In the morning, we leave the place the other hunters had taken residence in. Dean flips on a police scanner, and we head over to a fast food joint for a greasy breakfast. We go through the drive through and eat in the car. The scanner crackles to life, with police code. Sam, Dean, and even Bobby seem to understand, and start piling trash into the fast food bags. I hurry to finish my food. Dean drives out of the parking lot, heading for the crime scene, which was one thing I did understand from the jumble of words. When we get there, Bobby makes no move to leave the vehicle. Dean turns to me. "No reason for you to get out of the car. We're gonna talk to the witnesses. You've done all of that before and really, its not something you need to worry about while you're at Bobby's." Dean states, shooting me a smug grin. My eyes narrow, but I slide down to a comfortable position in my seat anyways. Sam and Dean walk down the street towards the shop.

"Dean's being awful heavy handed in dealing with what I do," I state, glaring over at Bobby. The man in question stays silent for a beat or two, before turning to me.

"He's seen a lot go wrong over the years. Especially when it comes to women. And I see his point, really. Sometimes even men have trouble going up against what we face. And you... you're a lot smaller than us. Not that you're little or anything," Bobby quickly covers at whatever expression must have darkened my face. "I can just see Dean not wanting you to get hurt, is all I'm saying."

"What you both need to realize, is that I'm an adult. And whether or not you guys are protecting me, something eventually could happen. Its the life. I know that, you know that. It's my life, and I choose to be out there, fighting the good fight, and taking down every evil son of a bitch I can." I tell him seriously. He seems to accept that, and turns away.

Bobby opens the car door, moving to the trunk and grabbing a bag. "You stay here, I'm gonna go talk to the suspect," he tells me. I hunker down in my seat, tossing up my feet in a show of staying put. I was willing to bet that the bag contained a suit, and I didn't really care to get fancy today anyways.

Its evening, and we're staking out a bar. Bobby yawns as he wakes up, and him and Dean chat. I watch Sam heading up to the car, but I can tell Bobby and Dean don't. I sit back with a smile on my face, waiting to watch them be scared. It was almost like revenge in a way, when Sam pounds on the window and they jump. I slide over in the seat so Sam can sit beside me. Sam gives us the scoop on John Doe, aka Walter Rosen. I listen idly, as they get into another debate, and see a car pull up. I pat Dean's shoulder, who seemed to have noticed too. "Guys," he calls out, and Sam and Bobby look. Walter gets out of his car, and heads towards the bar. "Alright, showtime," Dean states, had moving to the door handle.

"Wait a minute," Bobby says. Dean shoots him a look and Bobby continues. "What'd I just say? We don't knkow what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure." Bobby finishes.

"Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?" Dean states, then his eyes flit to mine. A dirty grin crosses his features, and I shoot him a halting glare. The smile falls from his features and seriousness returns.

"We're no good dead! And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is." Bobby states with finality.

"Hey, Bobby? I don't think that's an option," My eyes follow Sam's and I see that another car had entered the lot, and Isaac and Tamara were heading towards the bar. I hear Bobby curse, and he jumps out of the car, heading to the trunk and grabbing flasks of holy water. We wait for a bit, hoping the two hunters came out. But it was taking too long. We went to the door, to find it locked. Bobby and Dean begin to slam into the door, attempting to force it open. It becomes apparent that the door is sturdy. We head for the Impala. I see Dean pat the trunk, and I see his lips moving. I knew that he was apologizing to his car, like any car lover would do. We piled in, and Bobby fired it up. He lines the trunk up with the door, and floors the gas pedal, the car reversing through the door, and into the bar. We jump out, fling holy water violently into the crowd of demons. We back away after Sam grabs Tamara, all of us noting Isaac dead on the floor. We get in the car, but Dean is still out there, entering combat with Walter. After a small struggle, Dean overpowers him, and stuffs him in the trunk which, I know, has been inscribed with a Devil's Trap. I hear the demon screaming as Dean tumbles into the front seat and shouting for Bobby to go.

We have Walter tied to a chair under a Devil's Trap on the ceiling. I'm watching him, flask of holy water in hand, as I listen to the argument going on in the other room. I listen to the desperation in Tamara's voice as she pleads her case to go back for her husband. I listen as Sam throws out the unknown number. And I watch the grin cross Walter's face as Bobby identifies the group as the seven deadly sins. I glared at Walter, who was identified moments later as Envy. Bobby yells at Tamara, and finally, they come into the room. I push away from the wall I'd been leaning on, and hand Dean the flask of holy water. I leave the room, as they begin their interrogation. I'd never had the stomach for torture. After several minutes of hearing Envy screaming, the boys and Bobby come out of the room. "You guys, why don't you take Tamara and head for the hills? I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you a little time." Dean says easily. Of course, just like him to martyr himself out. What did he care, he was already dying.

"You're insane, Dean, forget it," I said forcefully. Just like any other time I said something contrary to him, I watched him puff up, to fight back.

"Cat's right," Bobby said. Dean deflated just a bit, then turned to Bobby angrily.

"There's _six_ of them, guys. We're outmanned, we're outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn." Dean stated.

"Not by much," I ground out. Skating over my statement, Bobby cut in.

"Maybe, but... there's no place to run that they won't find us." he warned.

"Look, if we're going down, we're going down together, alright?" Sam finally cut in. Dean gave in, and preparations began after Envy's final scream, when the house shakes, and the candles are blown out by a gust of wind.

I wait, from my position. I was in the kitchen, sink full of holy water, salt shotgun loaded, and Devil's Traps at either entrance. Clutched in my hands, was a written copy of the exorcism chant. I hear the music start upstairs where Sam and Dean were. And Bobby attempting to calm Tamara when a possessed Isaac begins shouting for Tamara. I wait as the pounding of feet tells me that the salt line was broken. A man runs into the kitchen, hitting the first Devil's Trap. He glares at me. "Aren't you hungry? Don't you want something?" he asks me. I step forward, slowly. I lift my hand, looking down at the paper. "I can tell you're hungry. And I can see your Lust. Why haven't you satisfied it? It would be so easy. We're not much different," he told her. It took me a second, to identify the man as Gluttony. I started the chant.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundusspiritus,omnis satanica potestas," Gluttony began screaming as I continued, "omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte."

"You're just like us! Stop it! Stop! There's a special place in hell for you and your kind!" Gluttony shouted. I brushed off the eerie chill his words caused me, tucking the words away for me to think about later.

"Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." I finished, the house shakes, and the demon's host body crumples to the ground. I rush forward, checking for a pulse. It was steady, and strong. He was merely unconscious, but he would live. "I'm sorry for what you must have seen," I tell his unconscious body, then stand, and head for where I knew Bobby was.

I drop the paper to the ground with a sigh, as Lust is expelled from the girl's body. Sam and Dean had taken two bodies outside to bury, and I thought about Sam's story. A blonde girl came in with a knife, and actually killed the demons. But she also killed the hosts. I drop myself into a chair, and wait. For the boys to bury the bodies, for Tamara's husband to finish burning, and for Bobby to finish whatever he was doing. Bobby comes in after a while to fetch me, and I see that the fires outside have started to burn down. Sam and Dean are standing by the Impala, and Tamara is by her car. After biding Tamara to be careful, and her driving off, we head back for Singer Salvage. Its relatively quiet the whole trip, Dean's music even playing quietly. I used the time to think of what the next while was going to be made of. Me, sitting in a house, fielding phone calls, and waiting for some demon to show up.

We pull into the lot, and everyone gets out of the car, heading into the house. "We should at least have a good meal, before you go off to live on junk food," I state. Everyone seems to agree. I grab my purse from where I'd dropped it on the table.

"I'll go," Bobby said, stopping me. He nudges Sam, and passes a look to him. Sam grabs his jacket to leave. I recognize it for what it was. Bobby giving me the opportunity to tell Dean what I'd said in the car. I steeled myself, turning to Dean after the sound of gravel under tires faded away.

"So... you're leaving after tonight," I said. Dean nodded, and he stepped back to lean against the doorframe. "You do realize, that I can take care of myself right?" I asked him. He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. Whatever complex you have about protecting me, is absolute bullshit," I tell him. He stays uncharacteristically quiet. "Look, you're about to be out on the road for the next foreseeable future. And at the very least, you don't need to be worrying about me here." I sighed. No need to fight him. He was going to be stubborn anyways.

"I dont worry about you," Dean said finally. I raised my eyebrow. "I mean, I'm not. But I'm not going to let you die when I could stop it either. I don't think you need to be hunting because you are terrible at it." Dean says. I glared at him. "You get hurt on every hunt. You don't expect things to happen. You are a disaster waiting to happen." This time, it was me rolling my eyes. I hold up my hands, to end the 'fight'.

"Ok," I said. "But you know, I may be a disaster, but you... you're... you are followed, by impending doom," I said. I turned. I'm walking away. I am never going to convince him to take me seriously. I feel his fingers close around my wrist. I start to tug my wrist away, but he pulls harder. I turn back to him, to find him invading my personal space. His eyes were dark, serious. His face set. I could see he jaw clench. His free hand was balled into a fist. Every indication, that he was warring with himself. He was leaned over me. Head tilted down, staring at me. So I leaned up. I slanted my mouth over his, stepping in to his body, molding myself to him. His hand grabbed my waist holding me against him, his fingertips digging in, almost painfully. We pulled apart, and then it was my turn, to grab his wrist and stop him from walking away. I pulled him toward where the stairs were, and he followed, almost reluctantly. "You're going to die in a year," I reminded him softly, "so why does it matter?" I stated. I knew it was wrong. Of course it would matter. To me. But for him... it was just a release. I lead him up the stairs anyways, through the door to my room. His plaid shirt fell away, and his shirt followed.

 _ **I just want to state, that I am sorry this took so long. I had no idea when I started this chapter, that it would be so difficult to write. And I know its boring. And I know you want to kill me for the ending. Yes, this is a friends with benefits type story, but the benefits are going to be vague. I don't write smut anymore. And fanfiction doesn't allow it. That said, leave me a review please, even if it is to tell me how much this chapter sucked.**_


	16. Bad Day at Blackrock

_**Okie dokie. Another chapter. No new reviews as I start this, but that's just going to have to be ok. And as I struggle with this fiction, I've got to say. This will be my only Supernatural fiction. I had no idea starting this that it would be so hard. Hats way, way off to the people who have written not one fic, but several. Especially multi-chaptered fics. You have more Supernatural talent than me. I'm beginning to think I'm a one hit wonder. That my most recent Bleach story is the best I have in me. But anyways, now that I've had my 'I hate my own fiction' rant, here goes. Also, only major change to this episode is some of the day scenes are now night. Why? Because I wanted to.**_

Chapter 16: Bad Day At Black Rock

~Flashback~

I start to tug my wrist away, but he pulls harder. I turn back to him, to find him invading my personal space. His eyes were dark, serious. His face set. I could see he jaw clench. His free hand was balled into a fist. Every indication, that he was warring with himself. He was leaned over me. Head tilted down, staring at me. So I leaned up. I slanted my mouth over his, stepping in to his body, molding myself to him. His hand grabbed my waist holding me against him, his fingertips digging in, almost painfully. We pulled apart, and then it was my turn, to grab his wrist and stop him from walking away. I pulled him toward where the stairs were, and he followed, almost reluctantly. "You're going to die in a year," I reminded him softly, "so why does it matter?" I stated. I knew it was wrong. Of course it would matter. To me. But for him... it was just a release. I lead him up the stairs anyways, through the door to my room. His plaid shirt fell away, and his other shirt followed.

Our time was a blur. A memorable blur. Clothes forgotten on the floor, every touch was fire. I could feel what was almost an energy in the air, and it was irresistible. I don't know how long we spent in my room, I have no idea if we were even alone still. I just knew I needed more. And when we were both done, I felt sated, in a way that was almost unsettling. I stood from the bed, my legs burning in a not-so-unpleasant way. I moved over to the pile of clothing on the floor, picked mine up, grabbed a clean set of underwear, and headed for the shower. I could hear noise downstairs, confirming my suspicions that Bobby and Sam had returned a while ago. I closed the bathroom door, but not too soon as to miss Dean quick-stepping across the hallway to his own room, boxers on and clothing in hand.

~Now~

I stepped into the kitchen, and went to the stove, stirring the pot of soup I had on a low heat. Bobby had called earlier, on his way back for 'A good night's sleep in his own damn bed, thank you.' I figured I'd make a good meal, and enjoy the company. Not that I'd been too bored since everyone had left. I'd finished cleaning and organizing Bobby's house, I'd purchased myself a new laptop, and some good speakers, and I'd spent my time between phone calls listening to music loudly.

A job I hadn't anticipated, was actually running the salvage yard. Lucky for me, I knew a little about cars, and knew what some things were worth. For others, I'd place a cheeky call to Bobby or Dean (whoever I could get to answer) and remind them just how much I didn't sign up to run Bobby's legit business. I'd just finished dealing a customer actually, having sold them the engine out of one of the many cars out on the lot, when Bobby had called.

I went back to the kitchen table, which I'd covered in maps and data. I scrolled through some information I had pulled up on the laptop, and once I'd confirmed the case, I picked up my cell. I'd programmed with the numbers of every hunter on Bobby's list, shortly after getting annoyed with unlocking the drawer all the time. I scrolled down to a number on the list. The line rang a total of 3 times, before the hunter answered. "Hey Mack," I greeted cheerfully.

"Hey Cat, you got something for me? I've been itching to get out," Mack replied. Mack owned a legitimate business of his own. A garage down in Louisiana, which he promised me free work if I ever needed it. Both on my car, and if I needed a bit of cash. I smiled as I gave him the info on the case. It read like Vampires, but I wasn't worried. I'd met Mack about 2 weeks ago. He'd come up for parts for a restoration he was working on. Singer Salvage happened to have a lot of what he needed. And not that I was going to tell Bobby, but I gave Mack quite the discount. He was an awesome friend. And he was huge. He was 6'5" with arms the size of bowling balls. Broad chested, and absolutely hilarious. I'd be interested, if not for the fact that the person I found myself attracted to would be dead in a year.

"Anyways, I didn't figure I'd have to worry about you too much if I sent you after a nest, you look like you could pick a full grown man up, and throw him across the room," I joked. I'd actually seen him pick up and carry an engine block. He thanked me for the case, and I flipped my phone shut.

A few hours later, I heard tires on gravel, and hoped it was Bobby, not another customer. As always, I grabbed my trusty sawed off, and headed to the front door. I peered through the curtains, and put the gun down when I recognized the car as Bobby's rolling piece of junk. Leaving him to let himself in, I went back into the kitchen. I checked the soup, happy to find it had finished, just in time. I pulled down two bowls, and then went to the table, clearing it off enough for two people. "Cat?!" Bobby called out.

"In the kitchen!" I answered. He came in, sniffing gratefully. He moved right over to the stove, and filled his bowl, filling mine too while he was at it. We sat down, and he told me how the cases I sent him on went. After a while, we both went to bed.

The next day, I continued on in my usual routine. I started the coffee maker,I fixed myself a bowl of cereal, opened the laptop, loaded the crop data, weather forecasts, and ran a search on mysterious deaths. I took some notes on the map at the table, and leaned back to relax. Bobby came down a while later, looking well rested and pretty happy. The home line rang, and I pointed at it meaningfully while I went to the coffee pot which had just finished brewing. I listened in, as I poured myself a cup, loading it with sugar, and Caramel Macchiato creamer. "Singer Salvage," Bobby stated. "Yea Sam, Stopped in for some sleep. She seems fine. Got my place turned upside down in her 'organization'," Bobby added mockingly. I threw my spoon at him. Bobby listened to whatever Sam had called about, growing visibly agitated. "You leave that rabbit's foot alone!" he exclaimed. "And don't you touch it!" This, punctuated by slamming his fist down on the table, causing my pens and markers to jump. "You touched it?! Damn it Sam!" I frowned as Bobby ran his hand down his face. I stepped over to my laptop, and ran a search on rabbit feet. "His lock up? Yeah, I knew. Hell I built those curse boxes for him." I found myself growing frustrated with only hearing half of the conversation, but I only sighed, adjusted my search for cursed rabbit feet, and focused on the computer. Inputting a few more things I heard Bobby telling Sam, I came up with what they were talking about. The more I read, the more I could picture Dean taking advantage of the situation. And poor Sam getting caught in the crossfire.

After a bit, I heard Bobby hang up, and before I knew what was happening, I'd been shooed out of my chair, and Bobby was on my laptop. I leaned against the counter, not sure what to do with myself. Bobby quickly ordered me to find him some books. I headed over to one of the many shelves. I pulled down a book titled 'Hoodoo, African Folk Magic'. I'd yet to read too much on Hoodoo, and made myself a mental note to look into it. 'Spirits Of The South' was the next book that Bobby had told me to fetch. Skimming through it, I saw the name Marie Laveau. I immediately recognized her name as the famous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. The next book, Bobby had only described. I found it in the section I'd made for spell books and such. It was a black, leather-bound book, with thick yellowed pages. There were strange symbols carved into the leather, which I could only assume were Hoodoo. I carried the books to Bobby, and went back to my normal research.

It was only a few hours later, that I hear a crashing sound, followed by fierce barking. Bobby looked at me confused, as I stood up and grabbed a shotgun. "I got another dog," I told him. I bolted out the door, whistling for the dog. I could hear it growling out in the yard. While an aggressive type dog was fantastic for protection, I didn't want him to end up like Bobby's last dog. Which meant if there was a demon in the yard, I had to pray it didn't attack. I found my dog in an attack stance, staring down someone who was staring back at him. I pumped the shotgun, aiming it at them. I gave a sharp whistle, and the dog whined, taking a few steps back, but staying angry. "Who are you?" I asked. Their eyes flashed black. My dog started growling, lips pulled back over his teeth. I pulled the trigger, hitting the demon with salt rounds. I turned and ran, dog at my heels. I heard the footsteps signaling that the demon was following too. I turned directions, running along the house toward the front. I saw Bobby moving through the house, pouring salt on window sills. I turned around the front porch, hopping the stairs and tumbling in through the front door. I scrambled backwards, and the dog stood a few feet from the door, growling again. I held a hand to Bobby, to prevent him from salting the front door. I saw the demon approach the door, as I stood to my feet, gun aimed. The demon came in through the front door, a few steps toward me. Then they hit an invisible wall. I skirted the Devil's Trap and shut the front door. I slid a chair into the circle, and crossed my arms, leaning against a wall. "Have a seat," I told the demon with a glare. The demon smirked at me, complying. That immediately rose my suspicions. "You can get the front door now Bobby," I told him. He ran a line of salt across the bottom, then grabbed my arm, pulling me around the corner. He kept an eye on the demon, but glared at me.

"You ain't supposed to be capturing them!" He whisper-yelled at me. I shushed him.

"I know. But this is the first demon I've come across since the Sins. And they said something... I just need to know what it means." I told him. "Monsters have been acting weird around me. It's like... there's something wrong with me." I watched him slowly release a breath, then head over to where he kept the holy water. I turned back to the demon. It began to laugh. "So... got any idea what it is you demons seem to find so fascinating about me?" I asked. It continued to laugh, and ignored my question. Bobby splashed it with holy water, and it turned serious. But still, the demon didn't say anything. Bobby splashed him again. I don't know how long we did this. The demon still never said anything. At one point, Bobby went for the salt, throwing it on the demon. Finally, I grabbed the book with the exorcism. I started to read.

"If you really don't know, did you really think we'd tell you? You can torture all you want. It gives us pleasure watching you struggle," the demon said. My eyes narrowed, and I finished expelling the demon. I throw the book on the coffee table, while Bobby went to dispose of the body. With a wave, I sent the dog after him. I collapsed against the couch. Bobby came in a while later, heading to the kitchen. The dog followed him.

"Uh uh," I stated, getting up and following the duo. I pointed to the door. "Out," I told the dog. It gave a short whine. "No." I crossed my arms over my chest. Bobby seemed to find it funny.

"It's a fine dog you got," Bobby stated, "how'd you come across him?"

"Online. I looked up well trained guard dogs in the area. I picked the most aggressive breed I could find." The dog gave a short bark. Now that the danger was gone, the dog returned to its normal self. Which was not aggressive at all. It was kind of sweet. If you wanted to get attached to an animal.

"And does he have a name?" Bobby asked. I snorted.

"Dog," I opened the back door, and the dog reluctantly went out. Bobby rolled his eyes at my antics.

"Never had a pet growing up did you?" he asked me. I shook my head. "Let me tell you, you might think what you have out there is a dumb animal, but dogs are intelligent, and fiercely loyal. And you, you're feeding that dog. Whether you wanted it or not, you've got a companion. And when it comes down to it, you're gonna want a name for it." I roll my eyes, but pull up a name generator on my laptop. I skimmed through the names, hoping to find something that would be 'suitable'. As I did, I heard the door open and glanced up to see Bobby letting the dog in. My eyes narrowed as the fluffy thing came up to sit by me.

"Some mean dog you turned out to be." I told it. When I imagined a mix between a Chow and an Alaskan Malamute, I did not imagine a fluffy dog with blue eyes, and fur that was mostly black, with a small white patch here and there. Sure, the dog was super muscular. But with its tail doing the curled over Chow thing, it looked cuddly more than anything. I turned back to the laptop, and the dog laid his head on my leg.

"How about Bear?" Bobby suggested. I admit, I'd been scrolling through names for a while at this point, long enough that the dog had left me to lay on the couch Bobby occupied. We'd moved from the kitchen to the living room by this point. I considered the name for a moment, then closed my laptop, setting it on the coffee table.

"Works for me." I went into the kitchen to search out some food. Not finding anything that sounded good, I grabbed my purse. "Hey Bobby, I'm headed to the store." I stated.

Dinner was finishing in the oven, and I stepped out the backdoor. I leaned against the house, and breathed in the cool air. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I answered. It was Mack. He was filling me in, letting me know he'd found the nest and would be heading back in the morning. I bade him to use caution, and hung up. As I headed back in the front door, pulling the casserole and crescent rolls from the oven, I heard Bobby in the living room talking. I set the food down and leaned against the door frame. "Lugosi? Lugo-aw crap," I heard Bobby saying into the phone. "Its probably Bela." My interest peaked, I sat down on the couch in front of Bobby, and raised my eyebrow. He waved a hand at me, and continued his conversation. "Bela Talbot is her real name. Crossed paths with her a few times." He paused for a moment. "Pretty friggin' far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country. Last I heard she was in the Middle East somewhere." Another pause on this end. "Which is seriously bad luck for you." "But if it is Bela...At least I know some folks who know where to find her." "Just...look out for your brother, ya idjit." He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and heads for his book in the desk. As we eat dinner, Bobby makes some calls. I finish up, and head to bed, Bear trotting along behind me. Bobby had made the argument that if there had already been a demon here today, that I shouldn't leave him out tonight. The dog followed me up the stairs and hopped on the foot of the bed where he immediately made himself comfortable. I changed, and laid down. I hadn't been asleep but maybe a few hours and my phone began ringing. I yawned and answered.

"What?" I grumbled. I hadn't bothered with the caller ID.

"Hey, I'm sure you know, but Sam's having some real bad luck right now. The kind where you end up dead. Would you, uh, give him a call, talk to him for a while so I know he isn't getting into any trouble where I left him? He's in a hotel room, and you never know what could happen. He's supposed to just sit there, but I'd feel better if you talked to him." Dead seemed really worried. And not that I wanted to worry him more, but I had to point something out.

"You know... they say its possible for cell phones to heat up and explode. Are you sure you want to risk it if he's having that bad of luck?" The other end of the line was silent for a few.

"You don't have to talk for long. Anything helps." I agreed and he hung up. I sat up and flipped on the lamp, and dialed Sam. He answered the phone after a few rings.

"So I hear you're having a bad day." I joked after his sullen greeting. I heard him give a huff over the line. "Ok so you don't want to talk about it. That's fine. We'll talk about something else. But hang up immediately if your phone so much as starts to feel warm." After he agrees, I continue to speak. "I got a dog. Named it Bear. Its supposed to be a guard dog but its not very vicious." I heard Sam chuckle over the phone. So I stuck with humor to make him feel better. "It's not funny Sam! It's giving me the 'cuddle face'." This made Sam laugh harder.

"What's it doing inside then?" he asked after a bit. I pursed my lips. I shouldn't have mentioned the dog. I'm a horrible liar, and I didn't want them to find out about the demon yet.

"Bobby made me bring it in. It's my 'companion' now, and it needs to be loyal before I make it defend me or something like that." I said after a moment. There was a pause on the line. Then a loud grinding noise. "Sam?!" I exclaim, rocketing up from the bed.

"Oh come on! I – I didn't – I wasn't..." I hear him sigh. I start to relax. It didn't sound bad. I'm not quite sure what sounds follow. And then I hear a loud thump.

"Sam?" I question. "Sam?" I hear the sound of a door being thrown open forcefully, like when its rammed or kicked. I run to my closet, yank out my duffle, and started shoving clothes in, listening to the phone. I hear unfamiliar voices, and they are talking about Sam. How best to move him. I continued to listen, hoping to get a clue, but eventually, silence was all I heard. I close my phone, stepping into my shoes and leaving my room. Bear followed quickly racing me down the stairs, nearly tripping me. "Bobby where are they?!" I shout. I head for the door, knowing he would follow me outside. I open my back door, throwing my bag in and heading going to the trunk. I open it, grab my back pack and throw some guns and ammo in, transferring it to the back seat too. Bear jumps in the car. "No!" I tell the dog. He whines.

"They're in New York so whatever reason you are trying to rush off, it isn't gonna help." Bobby states.

"Sam's been abducted. Dean left him in a hotel room to go somewhere and I don't know how long it will be before Dean gets back." I said. Bobby sighed.

"Dean's in Queens. He'll get back before you get there. I'll call Dean." Bobby said, heading back for the house. I yawned, and waved the dog out of the car, closing and locking it. I went back inside and up to bed.

I woke up around noon the next day. I was exhausted and felt like I could still get more sleep. But I should have had plenty. I went into the bathroom to shower, and noticed bags under my eyes. I took a shower and headed down the stairs to grab food. Bobby was at the table with coffee. I moved to the brewer gratefully. "Dean got to Sam in time. Rabbit's foot is gone." Bobby updated. I nodded gratefully, and made myself a cup.

 _ **Jeeeeeez. Talk about taking for friggin ever. Very sorry. This chapter didn't like me. And I didn't want to start over and take longer. So I forced it out and it sucks and I'm sorry. Hopefully the next one is a bit better.**_


	17. Sin City

_**So I wanted to progress the story line much further. But there's a lot I can do with this episode so hopefully things move along a lot better than last chapter. Some good bits, probably a POV change for a scene. I think this one might be ok. Which makes up for last chapter hopefully. Ok.**_

Chapter 17: Sin City

A knock on the door has me surprised. I'd been in the den, feet up on the coffee table, hoodoo book in hand. I stand, cautious because I wasn't expecting any company. I head for the door. The door knob jiggles as I get closer, and I snatch up the shotgun leaning against the nearby door frame. The handle turns, and the door swings wide to reveal Bobby. I glare at him. "Give me a heart attack, please. A little warning would be nice." I stated.

"Where's Bear? He should be yer warning that someone's here." Bobby replied, bag over his shoulder. They walked into the den, and Bobby dropped the bag on the couch.

"Bear's out back. Probably out among the cars scrounging for food. Dog's always hungry." I grumble, dropping back into my previous position.

"Well, maybe he'll do better in an hour or so," Bobby stated, picking up his bag and heading for the stairs. I give him a questioning look. "Sam and Dean are heading back for a bit." Bobby supplied, then thundered up the stairs. I looked down over myself. I was wearing my pajamas, a tank top, and thin cotton pants. Deciding quickly, I followed Bobby up, and headed to my room to throw on some day clothes. A black tank top with lace across the top, and a pair of nicely worn straight cut jeans. I plodded down the stairs, and headed out the back door to check on my dog. I pull the little dog whistle from under my tank top. It hung from my neck from a black cord. I blow in the whistle, and moments later, I see a ball of black fur barreling from between a line of cars. I held the door open and Bear ran right inside.

An hour and a half later, Bear begins to growl, head held low, lips pulled back from his teeth. He moves into the hall where the front door is. I brush past him, smoothing down the fur standing up on his back as I passed. I glanced through the curtain and saw the Impala. Sam and Dean were headed towards the front door, bags in tow. I smiled to myself, glancing at my angry dog. Then I opened the door. Bear burst out at a full sprint, heading straight at Sam, who was in front. Bear leapt, strong legs allowing him to slam into Sam's gut, and sending both of them to the ground. Bear wasn't done, turning a fierce growl at Dean while standing at Sam. "Bobby I wish you had seen this," I called from the front door. I heard the chair scrape across the floor of the kitchen, and Bobby walking towards me. I walked out the door, heading for the boys. They were more than a little thrown off, or I think they would have had guns pointed at Bear. I jog up to them, and pat Bear on the head. Reluctantly, he moves off of Sam, and leans against my leg. I can feel the dog's chest rumbling, as he was still unsettled. "You know, he liked Bobby instantly." I stated casually. Sam stood, and gave me a hug.

"When did you get a dog?" he asked, reaching down to let Bear sniff his hand.

"A while ago I guess. Figured the yard could use a bit of a warning system. Wasn't counting on it being cute. His name is Bear," I told Sam. Bear finally relented and allowed Sam to scratch behind his ears. We all went inside, and Sam and Dean headed up the stairs to get settled. Bear hopped up beside me on the couch, laying his head in my lap. I rested one hand on his neck and with my other hand, I held the hoodoo book.

Over dinner, it was revealed, that the reason everyone was back, was that Bobby wanted to take apart the Colt, which the brothers had. So they all came back here. But the brothers weren't staying long. They were gonna find another case and leave. So the next day, when I came down from my room, I wasn't at all surprised to find Bobby with gun pieces around him, and Dean melting down metal and pouring it into bullet molds. I answered the house phone when it rang, and went out to hunt down car parts for a paying customer. A while later Dean shows up. I'm under the hood of an old Chevy Trailblazer struggling to remove the alternator. Dean reaches in, and naturally pulls the part out with ease, setting it down in the pile of other parts I'd harvested from the SUV. "Caught what looks like a case," he said casually.

"Awesome, have fun," I said, leaning over to loosen the radiator. I felt his hand on my lower back, getting my attention. Desire struck like a fist, and I stepped back to catch my breath.

"I was coming to let you know we were leaving," Dean said. He turned and started to leave. He wasn't saying bye. I knew that. He'd come for something else. I grabbed his arm to stop him, and opened the back door to the SUV. I crawled in, and he followed, closing the door behind him.

Sam and Dean enter their hotel room. Dean chuckles at the mirrors above the beds. They hear the door across the hall open and Dean glances back. He recognizes the other hunter almost immediately. "Ritchie." Dean says. The hunter looks up, surprised. "I don't believe it." Recognition strikes the other man.

"Hey, Dean... Winchester right?" he questions. Dean gives his affirmative, and a scantily clad woman appears from Ritchie's room. "This is my sister, uh, Cheryl," Ritchie says. The girl greets them, and Ritchie hands her some money before she leaves. "Well, you know, stepsister."

"Come on in, this is my brother Sam," Dean says, waving the other hunter into the other room. Ritchie greets Sam, which starts a conversation about how they met. Dean thinks back, and he had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something important. Besides how they met, which was...

"It was that Succubus, in Canarse right?" Ritchie questioned. Dean grinned remembering the bombshell with the huge rack they'd had to kill. Succubi were no joke, he remembered. Their superior strength and ability to charm men made it a particularly rough hunt. "Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freakin' tragedy I had to gank her." Ritchie stated.

"Whoa whoa, wait. Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up," Dean shot back, laughing. As their conversation continued, Dean finally remembered. It was his time in the Djinn fantasy world. Where Cat was a Succubus. With the neon eyes. Shaking fantasy land out of his head, he set his mind to the task ahead of him. The case.

I head into the house, customer having left with a very empty pocket, and me holding a lot of money. I put the money in the drawer Bobby keeps it in. "You know, it would be super easy to rob you of every dollar you have." I tell Bobby jokingly.

"That's what Bear's for." Bobby replies, rubbing said dog between his ears. I roll my eyes. I glance at the table, to see it still covered in gun parts. I sigh.

"So the point of fixing that, is so you can kill demons in their hosts, so I'm not stuck here right?" I ask. Bobby nods focusing on his task. I sigh, and sit down at the table, pick up a file, and start filling devils traps into the flat ends of the bullets Dean had made. Bobby worked on the gun until night, and finally had it back together. We smile triumphantly, and head to bed. Tomorrow, we would test it out.

Morning rolls around. I get up, take a shower, throw my hair into a ponytail, and head down the stairs, Bear following. I start the coffee pot, and pour my bowl of cereal. Bear watches me eat. "You know Bear, you're a yard dog. You should be living outside. How can you alert us to thieves and demons on the lot, if you are snoring and drooling on my feet?" I said to the dog between bites of cereal. I hear a derisive snort from the doorway and smile as Bobby pours himself a cup from the just finished brewer pot. "Don't you start with me Bobby, Rumsfeld slept outside." I said.

"Rumsfeld had never been housebroken. Or trained. Or had an overly friendly personality," Bobby retorted. I scoffed.

"So you're saying my big mean guard dog, isn't a big mean guard dog?" I replied. Bobby shook his head.

"I'm just saying your guard dog, is better off inside. Rumsfeld would never have barked at something outside if he was inside. He wouldn't be bothered by it. Your dog is alert." I laughed. I was actually starting to enjoy our debates about Bear. I put my empty bowl in the sink after rinsing it, downed a quick cup of coffee and headed outside. Bear followed at my heels.

I pulled a bag of sand from the pile in the back of the garage. Each one had a red target painted on it. Bear and I headed for the back of the lot, farthest from the road and in a little wooded area. I took three long tree limbs and lashed them together with thick twine. Teepee style. Then I tied up the bag in between them. I gave Bear a pat, and we sat down to wait for Bobby. Bear brought me a stick, which he dropped in my lap. Idly I threw it aside. It was only when Bear sprinted after it, that I realized what I'd started.

Before long, Bobby showed up, gun and bullets in hand. I stood up, and watched, arms crossed over my chest, as Bobby took the first few shots, filing the firing pin a little here and there. Bear begins to growl and suddenly, there's a blonde standing next to the target. "Cute piece," she quips.

"Who're you?" Bobby asks, only lowering the gun partly.

"Won't stop a demon if that's what you think," she said.

"How the hell would you know," I pitched in. I laid a hand in the scruff of Bear's neck, his hackles raised. My hand held him back. If I let go, he would attack.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, looking down a bit and closing her eyes. When she opened them, they were black all over. "Call it an educated guess." she finished.

"Well ain't I lucky then. Found a subject for a test fire." Bobby said, raising the gun back up. I further dug my fingers into Bear's fur. If Bobby was going to shoot her, I didn't want Bear in the way. She gave a derisive laugh.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. But, hey, by all means. Take your best shot." Bobby adjusted his grip on the gun, seeming just a bit hesistant. "Are you gonna stand there like a pantywaist or are you going to shoot –" she was cut off by the firing of the gun. Bobby made a clean shot, straight to the heart. "Ouch. That smarts a little."

"What do you want?" I demanded. Now that we knew the gun wasn't going to work, I prepared to let Bear go. She was too close for us to escape without the distraction.

"Peace on Earth. A new shirt. Now, do you want me to help you out with that gun or not?" she asked. Bobby turned to look at me. I shrugged.

"What's in it for you?" I asked. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not in it to help you if that's what you're asking. Call it a mutual interest." She crossed her arms over her chest, and Bobby gave a nod. Her and Bobby headed off, and I paused to calm Bear. Then I followed. We headed into the house, where her and Bobby got to work on the gun. Me, I sat in a corner, salt gun across my lap, jug of holy water within reach, and a cup of coffee in one hand. The other held tightly to the leash. Bear didn't like her at all. In time, I found out her name was Ruby. And she knew Sam.

I don't know how long they worked on the gun. I wasn't paying attention when they started. But I knew it'd been hours. And they finally had it. Or well... Ruby said it would work. But there wasn't really time to test it. Sam called. Dean was in trouble. So we all loaded up into my car, and I put the pedal to the floor. Bobby sat beside me, and Bear sat growling beside Ruby in the back seat. She had rolled her eyes at him, but hadn't made any move to hurt him.

We arrived well into the evening. And apparently late. I saw Sam walking around the house. There was someone with him, and older guy. Looked like a reverend, or minister or whatever faith it was he followed. Bobby jumped out of the car, running forward to take a shot at the guy. Me, Ruby, and Bear got out, and Bear bolted after the guy, when he ran into the house after throwing Bobby and Sam. "Bobby, you all right?" Sam asked, rushing over to the man.

"Yeah," Bobby grumbled pushing himself up from the ground.

"How did you know where we -" Bobby cut Sam off, pushing the Colt into his hands.

"Go!" he said. I moved over to help Bobby. Sam stood and turned towards us. I smiled, before passing him.

"You heard the man. Go." Ruby told him with a smile. Sam left. I narrowed my eyes at the demon, then turned my attention to Bobby.

"Bear went in," I muttered to the other hunter. Bobby scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Dog can take care of itself," He replied. I helped him stand and moved him back to the car. Ruby crossed her arms and leaned against the rear quarter panel. After a bit I heard two gunshots. I ran through the house and down the stairs. Bear was waiting for me, and I saw Sam standing there with Dean. There were two bodies on the floor. The religion guy from before...and a brunette. I scowled, knowing how she'd lured Dean down. Then I nudged Bear, and we went up the stairs and out of the house.

Bear hopped up next to me on the couch. Unfortunately, next to me meant, laying down on my legs which were thrown across the length of the couch. I grumbled at the dog, shoving him a little, til he settled to the side of my legs instead of on them. Dean came into the living room with a beer, followed by Sam. "So, now that you have a demon killing gun... Can I not be cooped up in this house? No offense to Bobby, but..." I trailed off. I gave the house an exaggerated once over. Sam laughed a little, but neither brother responded. After a while, I headed up the stairs. Very little to my surprise, Dean knocked on my door a while later. He came in and sat next to me on the bed.

"You... you'd tell us if something was going on right?" he asked sort of hesitantly. He stared right at me. He must have seen the confusion on my face, because he continued. "I mean, you wouldn't lie to us?"

"Of course not," I replied, "What brought this on?" He seemed to stew over what he'd say. "You don't get to back out. Tell me what's up," I told him.

"The Djinn... I didn't tell you, or anyone. But in that world, you were something we would have hunted. Something I have hunted." he said. I narrowed my eyes. This freakishly went with the demons being weird.

"Ugh, why does everything have to be strange around me," I complained, flopping back. Dean gave me a look. The kind that demanded a response. "Demons are being weird around me. The Seven... Gluttony. Told me I was like them. But also that there was a special place in hell for me. And 'my kind'. So what was I, in this dreamland?" I asked. True or not, it would help to have some kind of hint.

"A Succubus." Dean responded, laughing a little. My eyes narrowed. In no way, was it funny, that I could be a soul sucking slut.

"That isn't funny. At all. And you and I had better hope its not true. I don't wanna die, and I don't want to kill people either. Especially not like... that." I grimaced. Sex was fun, fantastic, great even. But no, I did not want to screw random strangers to death. We joked about it for a while longer. And then Dean left, and I laid down, thinking about what he'd said. Succubi were born, not turned. The same with the Incubi. So if that were true, my mother, or father, had to have been one of those things. And it just didn't seem right to me. No, the weird thing, it had to be something different.

 _ **So...**_


	18. Malleus Maleficarum

_**I had to rewrite the 2nd paragraph of Ch. 2 Scarecrow, in order to continue with this train of thought, so if you would like, or even remember what went on in that chapter, please, do reread it. If you decide to reread the whole thing, and find another conflict of storyline because of this change, please inform me so I can fix it. So. Here goes.**_

Chapter 18: Malleus Maleficarum

I pull my car into the darkened parking lot. I cut the engine and stepped out. I rolled my shoulders, and checked my phone. No messages. I drop my phone into the seat, and head for the trunk. I unlock it and dig for my journals. I still had another day's drive ahead of me, and there wasn't any point in driving til I fell asleep. But I could take the time to catch up my journals. I took a blank and sat in the back, working on filling it with everything I knew about demons. Their weaknesses, their possible (probable) plans. I curled up in the seat and dropped the journal to the floor. I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

By late afternoon I reached my destination. Vegas. I pulled into an almost empty parking lot, and changed into 'slut clothes'. I glared at the unmarked red door. The back entrance. I prepared myself mentally, and headed for the door. I worked myself up into confidence by the time I made it to the door. I threw it open, and walked through like I belonged there. Maybe I did. I had, at one point. I walked through the narrow hallway, and onto the main floor. There were tables and a bar. I walked down the couple of stairs, and headed for the bar. There were a few people there, a bartender, a big guy, and the manager. I leaned against the bar when I reached it, and received a nod from the bartender. The big guy, a bouncer, shared a look with the manager, and headed away. I turned my gaze to the skinny guy in a suit. He had that almost a creep look to him. After a few moments, he slung an arm over my shoulders. I forced myself not to push him away. "Its been a while," he said. His tone was... patronizing. Accusatory.

"I told you... I've been traveling." I said. He walked me back up the stairs and into the hallway. We continued to the left, towards the very very back. I could see lights up ahead. A few more steps and I heard voices. Taking a deep breath, I strutted forward towards the door, and only paused, when the man spoke.

"I know that when I told you I'd hold your job for a while, that your parents had just died. And I gave you this job as a favor to your mom. But I'm not going to hold it forever. Either come back, or this is your last show." he turned back, walking back the way we'd come. I entered the room with the lights, and passed through racks of clothing. There were maybe a dozen other women in there, in various stages of undress, putting on makeup, doing hair, and talking. A red head drops her lipstick to the table when she sees me. She leaps from her position, seated at the vanity, and rushes to me. I smile, and open my arms in time to be embraced.

"Cat!" she exclaimed. She released me, glanced at the door and pulled me towards her vanity, so she could continue to do her makeup. "So I'm guessing you've already been to see Dick?" I nearly snorted at the nickname we'd given the manager. I nodded my assent, and grabbed for my friend's makeup bag. Alice. I started my own makeup, and after a while, I almost didn't recognize myself. My skin had always been smooth and even toned, but something about my stage makeup made me feel like I didn't look the same. Alice tugged me towards the clothes, and I rolled my eyes at her excitement. She loved her job, even when Dick was being a dick.

I'd chosen quickly, and I changed. When I was done, I wore what could be described as a black leather sports bra and panties under a skin tight, black, soft cotton halter dress with a zipper running the length of the front. The dress didn't even cover much of my thighs and I instantly felt both attractive and disgusted with myself. I grabbed a pair of thigh high boots, made of dark stretchy material, and zipped them up. Alice got to work on my hair, tsking at the condition of it. "Just because you were traveling doesn't mean you stop taking care of yourself! And your hair is even shorter than last time you stopped by! You have to stop cutting it!" I knew she was complaining about my lack of visits more than anything. My hair was actually just as soft and lustrous as ever. It was just shorter. Once Alice finished with my hair, I started to stretch my muscles. It had been probably a year since I'd danced after all. This was the secret I hadn't wanted to tell the Winchesters. To make money, I danced.

I could hear the moment they opened the doors. The volume of the music rose exponentially and several of the girls headed out to the floor. Alice, dressed in blue, giggled in excitement. It wasn't that she was slutty, or even easy. She just loved to dance. She celebrated her body, and took care with what she ate. A woman with a clipboard came into the room. She wasn't familiar to me. She pointed to Alice and the redhead rolled her eyes before bouncing out of the room. The woman turned her gaze to me. Her eyes narrowed. "So you're Cat." Her disapproval was clear. So I put on a charming smile. "You're the one Alex refuses to take off of payroll," she stated, clearly having a whole speech prepared. It took me a second to remember that 'Dick's real name was Alex. "I know he 'owed' your mother, whatever that meant, but just know, that I doubt whatever it was, was enough for him to hold you a spot. Every time you come, business drops. I don't understand it. Because we've never had a bad review. But people stop coming." She glared at me accusingly. I shrug.

"I don't understand what that has to do with me, but ok," I said. She looks put off for a moment, then swirls around, heeled feet tapping their way to the door frame. I followed. She stopped before passing through.

"Everyone works the floor now. You don't get to just do your little dance and collect. You have to earn it." She said. I nodded, to placate her, and headed for the side exit to the stage. I glanced up as I went down the stairs, watching Alice strut her stuff on stage for a moment, before making my way to the bar. If I was working the floor, I was starting with a drink.

It had to have been at least an hour, before the woman with the clipboard grabbed my attention to prepare for my routine. Relieved, I headed up the stairs, and around to the door that led to the performing part of the stage. Behind the curtain, I stretched one last time. A few minutes later, and the current song ended. The curtain opened about 3 feet. The other girl came through and I strutted out. The beginning music for my routine came on. My routine was a lot of floor work, less of the pole. Two years old, my routine was probably outdated, but its been forever since I'd worked on anything new. The song was Dirrty by Christina Aguilara. Seconds in, the crowd was enraptured. As the song went on, I felt stronger, more confident. Several of the men began to look almost empty, their eyes glazed over, mouths open. I didn't let my concern show on my face. And as I looked through the crowd, I saw Alice looking at me, with almost a look of pity on her face. When my dance ended, I hurried through the crowd, and avoided grabbing hands. I stopped to look for Alice, and found her red head bobbing through the crowd heading for an exit. She had a man with her. I hurried after her anyways.

I burst out into an alley. Alice was there with the man. Her hand was on his shoulder, and he slumped to the ground. Hunter instincts kicked in, and I felt for the knife I'd concealed in my boot. Weapon in hand, I kept my hand to my side, and stepped slowly up to Alice. During my dance, the dress had come off, and a cool wind made me regret my rush to the outside. Standing in the leather underwear/bathing suit type outfit, I also felt unprotected. Alice turned to me, and crossed her arms over her chest. "You know, I've been your 'friend' for years." she stated. For a second, it looked like she blurred out of focus.

"Are... are you like me? Whatever it is that I am?" I asked softly, hesitantly. This was definitely the person I would get my answers from. She laughed derisively, and I was actually hurt a little.

"Of course not. When your mom asked me to watch over you, I didn't think it would involve so much work. And when I realized you actually had a conscience, I knew I was going to have to go along with your mother's idea to keep it a secret from you. Stupidly, because like I said, more work." Her eyes narrowed. "No, I'm a Reaper, tasked with following the babies of your kind. Because there are always so many souls. So many kills. Like the guy behind me, barely hanging on. Now he's at peace," she said. A reaper. My only real friend, was never a friend, and only a monster. Just like me.

"My kind?" I asked finally, finding my voice. I wasn't ready to believe that I'd killed the man on the ground. She rolled her eyes.

"If it weren't for your parent's death you would have known by now I guess. Although I have to say, you're really progressed for a Succubus who hasn't matured yet. That's coming soon though. I give it another year or so? When is it you turn 25 again?" she asks. I can barely breathe.

"Year and a half," I choke out. She sighs. The knife clatters to the ground as it slips from my slackened grip.

"It really shouldn't be me telling you about your kind, but I've seen enough of you grow up, that I guess, in honor of our friendship, and my friendship with your mother, that I can help you out. But not here. And help me get rid of the body since you are here. You're a lot stronger than me at the moment anyways. I pick up the man, surprised at how easy it was. She slings his arm over her shoulder and to anyone else, it would look like we were helping a drunk man to his car. Except it was my car, and we threw him unceremoniously in the back. She got in the drivers seat, and numbly, I slid into the passenger. As she drove us through Vegas, I tried to process. Dean had been right. I really was a Succubus.

We dumped the body on the other side of town, Alice altering perception so no one could see what was happening. Then she drove me to her home. We entered, and I sat down on the familiar blue couch. She sat in the armchair in front of me. "Succubi are born weak, almost human. As they get older, they begin to unconsciously absorb sexual chi. Around 25 years of age, they 'mature' meaning that they must consciously feed on the chi in order to survive. The chi gives them the ability to heal their bodies at an incredible rate, including slowing their ability to age. Almost to a stop. They are a lot harder to kill. They are strongest just after a feed, able to easily carry a fully grown man. You don't have to kill to survive. That's important. Once you realize what you are doing, you can 're mother said it was easy. Like flipping a switch." Alice told me.

"What about my father?" I asked. Alice paused for a moment.

"You're father was an Incubus. I'm almost positive. Its hard to tell with you demons, if you understand. But you were raised by your mother's last lover. And she was quite the fool, because it got her killed. The man who raised you was a hunter. I guess he pissed off some demons, who came to kill him. To their pleasant surprise, they got to kill your mother too." she paused then, looking irritated. "I told her she was a fool, but look at you. You're a hunter."

"You called me a demon. I'm not a demon, I would know."

"You're a subclass of demon, sorry to break it to you. Just like crossroads demons. Actually, its kind of funny. See, there's a little legend about your kind and the crossroads demons. But I'm actually physically incapable of telling you what it is. Part of that 'neutrality' that Reapers have to uphold. Actually, I can't tell you anything else at all." her form blurred out again. "I'm being called. You should leave. And you shouldn't tell anyone what you are. You'll be killed. And that isn't the promise I made to your mother." Alice literally disappeared. I left the house in a daze.

I don't remember much of the journey back to Singer Salvage. I had too much on my mind. I don't remember passing through the front door, and climbing the stairs to my room. I don't remember falling asleep. But I must have, because I woke up the next morning, staring at the familiar ceiling, and dreading the day. I change slowly, feeling the need for something normal. I wear dark-wash skinny jeans, and a stretchy tank top. I add a fitted flannel shirt to the mix. 'Hunter clothes'. I head down the stairs, to find the usual commotion of Sam and Dean leaving. I place my hand on Dean's arm to catch his attention. "Dean, do you have a minute?" I ask. He shakes his head, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"Caught a case. Mysterious dead body," he looked excited. He must have been bored. I let him leave without a fuss. My life altering realization could wait. I apparently had a lot of time. Belatedly, I realize that I'd never picked up my pay from the club. It didn't matter. I was never setting foot in that building again. My mother had worked there. She convinced me to work there. She had known what I was, and hadn't told me. Dick probably knew what I was. And my little family type arrangement here? I wasn't sure what I was going to do about all of this. I needed time. I needed to adjust. I needed to leave. So I did. I didn't bother to grab anything. It was still in the car. I just got in and left, without telling Bobby goodbye. I didn't know where I was going, I just drove.

 _ **So there's that, sorry for the wait. Let me know how it was. I'm not sure about it at all. The case the brothers left for was the case from Malleus, which is why the title. Wasn't sure what I was doing with this chapter. (Had my fiance pick an episode and a monster) Was originally going to hunt the Reaper, but wanted to finally show people how Cat made money. Didn't think it would last til Chapter 18 before I told people lol. But once I started writing Alice, I had to. Remember that Reapers can make themselves known to anyone living. If they wanted to, which is how everyone sees Alice. I don't know if she'll be a returning OC or not. Let me know what you think of her, I'm not sure about her either.**_


	19. No Rest For The Wicked

_**So, getting started on Chapter 19. There is a time jump here. Sorry about the long skip. Little fill in for the character, basically, Cat's been out hunting here and there, but mainly searching for information, or one of her kind. She hasn't had any luck. Season finale is the best choice of a next chapter for this fic. At least the way I've been doing it anyways.**_

Chapter 19: No Rest For the Wicked

I left my hotel room, and headed for the car. I dropped the last of my bags in the trunk, dropped the lid, and hopped in the driver's seat. I started the engine, and raced out of the parking lot, leaving behind the Beaver Motel sign. Bobby had just called me. He'd found a way to find Lilith, the one holding Dean's contract. So it was all hands on deck. I raced back towards the cabin where the Winchesters were staying.

I marched through the front door. Dean looked up from the map. The pendulam on the tracking device was already on a location. I glance between the three men in the room, the tension thick in the air. I'd interrupted some kind of argument. Bobby moved towards the door I'd come through. "Where are you going, Bobby?" Sam asked. Bobby whirled around to face them, irritation evident.

"I guess to..." he threw out his arms, "find something else." Bobby slammed the door behind him. Sam sighs, and leaves the room. My eyes fall on Dean, looking angrier than the other two. I walk over to the table.

"New Harmony, Indiana?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. Dean huffs in displeasure. I turn towards him and angled my head to the side. "You don't want us to go after her?" he looked away, not able to meet my eyes. "You're an idiot. This family, we stick together. No matter what. It may be a weakness, it may be stupid. But all of us, we'd do anything for each other." I said. Ignoring the fact that his arms were crossed, I stepped up to him, lifting my arms around his neck. After a beat, his arms uncross, and come around me. We stay like that for a little while. Finally he pulls away.

"Where have you been?" he asked quietly. I froze. The last time I'd actually seen Dean, they'd been leaving for a case. Which had turned out to be witches, and the demon who gives witches their power. I knew this, because while I hadn't been around, I had called to check in. It had never been the right time to tell Dean what was going on with me. It wasn't even the right time now. But with Dean's impending death, unless we stopped Lilith, I needed to tell him. I stepped away, breathing out in a rough sigh, and carded my hand through my hair. I nodded my head towards the door, and Dean followed me out the front door. I leaned against the railing of the porch.

"I've been meaning to tell you, it just didn't seem like the right time," I started. Immediately I noticed the look that crossed his face. I realized how dark my sentence sounded. Rather than fix it, I continued. "I tried to tell you last time I saw you, but you were leaving. I went out to make some money. And ended up finding out more about myself than I ever wanted to know." That caught his attention. He leaned up against the cabin. "I am a monster Dean." I dropped my head to my chest, and leaned over, placing my forearms on the railing. I heard him make a sound of disbelief. "Just like you thought." I added.

"What do you..." he started, then paused. "Did you..." he stopped himself. But I knew what he was asking.

"Yes, and no," I answered his second question. "I didn't necessarily kill him. But... I might as well have." I took a deep breath, turning to face him. "My money making thing. Its not a scheme, or a scam, or a trick of any kind. Before I started hunting, I was a stripper." I saw him working not to laugh. "My mother convinced me to do it. She used to be a stripper, and she'd said she loved it. And I did. I'd always felt so powerful on the stage. She encouraged me to make some friends. And I did. Whenever I went back, I caught up with that friend. Her name is Alice. She's a Reaper I guess. Tasked with cleaning up my messes. I, uh, was absorbing the 'chi' of men in the club. And sometimes, I take a little too much. I can't control it right now, I haven't 'matured'. Its subconscious. And when I did take too much, she takes them. To prevent them from living a half life." I finished.

"So you haven't actually killed anyone?" Dean clarified. I shook my head. He came up beside me. "What did you mean by 'you haven't matured'?" he asked.

"I mean, when I turn 25, that my body goes through a process. And when that happens, I stop aging. Or my aging slows. I don't know. But when that happens, I require chi to survive. When I've eaten, my body will heal at a ridiculous pace. I'll be harder to kill. Much harder." Silence fell between us for a few. "I'm going to tell all of you how to kill me. I don't want to be a monster. When this is over, one way or another, I want you to kill me. If... if not you, then one of them." Dean held up a hand to stop me from going back into the house.

"I've killed a Succubus before," he stated. Hearing him say it, sent a shiver through my spine. "But I'm not going to kill you. Not unless you start killing people." I opened my mouth to protest. "No, Cat. You said it yourself. You don't want to be a monster. And Succubi, are monsters on the fence. They can have control, they can choose not to kill. And I know you'll chose that. So we aren't gonna talk about this anymore. What's important, is that we know without a doubt, that you have an edge." he said. I couldn't believe that he was so calm.

"I don't have an edge." I stated. He turned to me with surprise. "I've stayed away from anything sexual since I found out. I avoid bars. I rent out the rooms with no one around." I said. He rolled his eyes. "I can't control it right now. I could kill people without even knowing it. Not until it was done."

"I think we'll be ok," he said. I stopped. "I'm dying anyways. Might as well give you the edge we need to fight Lilith." he finished. When I was still hesitant, he grabbed my hand, leading me into the house, up the stairs, and into his room. He turned to me, holding my face between his palms. He leaned down to capture my lips with his. He kicks the door closed, and draws me back towards the bed. When I drew back, he caught my hand. "Humor me, I'm dying," he jokes. I stop resisting. I would never be able to resist him for long.

I woke up alone. I get out of the bed, and pulled on my clothes, then head down the stairs. I hear yelling, coming from the basement. I dash down the stairs, in time to see Dean turn to punch some girl. Almost instantly, she overpowered Dean. I watched her send Sam flying. I took two steps forward. She turned to face me, in time for my fist to slam into her face. She stumbled back with the impact. Another step forward, and I kicked her in the chest. I could see that the force surprised her. Her eyes flashed black. Mine must have changed too, because her eyes changed back in shock. I didn't give her a chance to recover. I punched her again twice. Then she retaliated. She had more combat experience than me. Even with all of my training with Sam and Dean, she overpowered me too. "It's funny how they refuse my help, and how Dean calls me a slut, but here you are. Do they realize that you're basically a demon too?" she asked venomously. Dean had recovered, and came back at her. With another kick, she sent him into a corner of the basement, following after him. He came back up only for her to beat him back down. He grinned in victory. I noticed the Devil's Trap on the ceiling. Battle won, I headed back up the stairs.

An hour later, weapons on the table, Dean and Sam were still bickering. Sam wanted to let her help. Me... I just wanted to get this over with. I was ready to save Dean, and, after that, I wasn't sure. After my bag of weapons was set, I slipped down into the basement, where Ruby was waiting. "They're going to fail you know. Sam won't listen to me. But he could do this." I ignored her goading.

"You said I was basically a demon." I stated. She smirked.

"That's right. Catherine Collins, the Succubus who didn't know who she was." I gave her my best bitch face. "Lilith made you, you know. So I don't understand why Sam and Dean trust you so much. If anyone is 'working with' Lilith, it would be you. Look at you, you've already weakened Dean for your own strength." Ruby gave a short derisive laugh.

"Lilith made me? As in made the Succubi?" I clarified. Ruby nodded. I turned and bolted up the stairs.

Dean, Sam, and I load up into the Impala. As Dean turns the key, nothing happens. We share a look of worry, but then Bobby appears, holding up a distributor cap. More than likely, the one that belonged on the Impala. "Where do you think you're going?" he asks. I open the door, and slid out, Dean and Sam hesitating before doing the same. They approach Bobby, who looks furious. I catch the look on Dean's face. He isn't happy either.

"We got the knife," Dean stated, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

"And you planned to use it without me?" Bobby questioned, incredulous. "Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?"

"No, Bobby of course not," Sam says quickly, immediately trying to fix the fight he knew was bound to happen.

"This is about me… and Sam. Ok? This isn't your fight." Bobby's eyes narrow, passing between the three of us.

"They hell it isn't! What about Cat! You say it's about the two of you but you're bringing her along. The one you never let help you fight demons before? Family don't end with blood, boy. Besides, you need me."

"We have Cat. She's…" Dean hesitated before looking to me. I give him a nod of my approval. I wanted them to know anyways. "Cat's a Succubus." Bobby gives a snort.

"Having her isn't an advantage, especially if she's a Succubus. So what if she's stronger and sturdier. She isn't mature yet, and Lilith would neutralize her instantly." Bobby threw out. He didn't seem surprised in the least. The narrow eyed look he gave me, informed me that he and I had a talk coming when this was over. "Besides, you're playing wounded. Tell me, how many hallucinations have you had so far?" Bobby asks. My eyes widen, and I look to Dean. Sam is doing the same. Dean looks to his brother, and turns back to Bobby.

"How'd you know?"

"Because that's what happens when you have hellhounds on your butt." Bobby replies. "And because I'm smart." Dean looks down on the ground, and after a beat, Bobby hands him the distributor cap. "Cat and I will follow," he adds. He heads towards his car, and I hesitate to follow. After a moment, Dean steps to the hood of the car, ready to put the part back. "And don't be stopping to pee every ten minutes either!" Bobby calls back. Dean shakes his head, and I can tell he's amused.

The first part of our ride goes by in silence. As we near the Indiana state line, Bobby finally decides to address the elephant in the car. "You knew what you were, and you never told me." He stated. I scoff.

"You knew what I was, and didn't tell me." I quipped.

"I wasn't sure until recently. And I figured if you were, that you would say something. You're a hunter damn it. I thought you would at least have the respect for me, for all of us, to not keep it between you and Dean." I stayed silent for a moment, ashamed.

"It's the reason I haven't been around lately. I didn't find out until then. And then, I didn't know how to say it. Dean's only known since last night, so don't blame him for not saying anything either. I… I'd asked him to kill me, when this was over. Or if he didn't survive, I was going to ask you or Sam. Because I'm a hunter. But he refused. He said I haven't killed anyone yet, and that since we're monsters on the fence, that I didn't deserve to die. But he's wrong. Whatever control we may have, we're still made from demons." I hung my head. Bobby was silent, contemplative.

"I think I speak for Sam too when I say, that unless you kill people, we're not killing you. You may not have an advantage now, but if you continue to hunt, once you mature, you're gonna be handy in a fight." I could tell he was trying to reassure me. I dropped the conversation.

Across the street from the house Lilith is in, we make plans. First, to take out the few demons on watch. While that's happening, Bobby would be turning the entire water system into holy water. I was sneaking around with a bag of salt. I was lining the doorways and windows of the neighboring houses. Keep whatever demons in that we could. The task had fallen to me because I was smaller and lighter on my feet, therefore just a bit stealthier. And apparently, my energy read like a demon's anyways. After a pause, I see Dean, Sam and Ruby. And apparently, other demons did too. I bolted for Lilith's house, and I saw the other three doing the same. They reached the porch before I was even close. The demons were ignoring me like we'd all hoped. As the sprinklers turned out, I felt the faintest tingling alond my skin while I ran through them. After a moment, Sam gets the lock and we head inside. I see the bodies, one on the floor, and one at the kitchen table, and I'm sickened by the needless death.

I come up the stairs from the basement, having just carried the man down. I open the door, and step over the salt line. A brief sensation of nausea comes over me, then passes. I see Dean heading up the stairs, and I start to follow but he shakes his head at me. I wander around the downstairs with my gun raised. A few minutes later I hear feet on the stairs. Hopeful, I step out. Dean shakes his head at me, leading a woman, and the little girl who was once Lilith. The two go down to the basement, and we into the living area. "Well, I hate to be a 'told you so'." Ruby stated snarkily.

"Alright, Ruby, where is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," she replied. I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Dean was out of time. Tears filled my eyes. I stepped to him, as they talked. I laced my fingers through his. His hand tightens around my own.

"Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you… ok?" Sam nods, and Dean turns to me. "And remember what I taught you." He was looking at me, but he meant the both of us. I step into him, resting my forehead against his chest. The clock strikes midnight. Dean gives us a small smile, and I choke back a sob. Ruby looks almost repentant.

"I'm sorry Dean, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy." She says. We hear the baying of the hellhounds begin. Dean stiffens against me, then pulls away.

"Hellhound," he states. At Sam's request, he points it out. Dean bolts from the room, the rest of us following closely. We enter another room, closing the doors behind us. Dean and I jump to spread some goofer dust. Dean takes the door, and I get the window. Sam almost gives the knife to Ruby, so she can fight the hounds, when Dean shouts. "That's not Ruby!" Ruby turns to Sam, flinging him against a wall, without touching him. I rush forward, and Ruby/Lilith turns to me, her eyes, flash to white, then to a neon blue. My body freezes, locked in place. I feel a wrenching in my gut, and my skin feels too tight for my body. Hunger overtakes me, burning in my gut. My vision flashes. I can see Ruby/Lilith opening the door. Her gaze finds mine, and I feel my body moving against my will. I'm facing Dean, as the first long gashes appear on Dean's body. Then my vision fades, and I feel myself falling to the floor.

I couldn't have been out for too long. My eyes open, and I see Ruby dead on the floor, and Dean being held in Sam's arms. Dean is torn and bloody, and dead. I can't hold back the tears that flood my eyes. I gasp out sobs. I crawl over to Dean and Sam, my body aching. I take hold of Dean's hand. Bobby rushes into the room. "The demons are gone, we can…" he trails off as he sees us. After a while of silence, mourning, Bobby opens the basement door at my request, calling down to the family below. Sam picks up Dean's body, and we leave, after requesting that the family not mention us to any authorities.

 _ **So I'm leaving it here. As always, sorry for the wait, had a tough time churning this one out. Had a lot going on these past few weeks. Real life will always take precedent. But I will always try to find time to write. It soothes me. (Normally, in the case of this fic, it's driving me nuts.)**_


	20. From Lazarus Rising to Wishful Thinking

_**Ok so it's been another long wait. At this point (before this really) apologizing had become repetitve and pointless. One the one hand, I got married, and promoted (general manager woot). On the other hand...fanfiction lol. WARNING! I go into vague sexual detail.**_

Chapter 20: Wishful Thinking

We put Dean in the trunk of the Impala, and drove. The unnamed destination was probably Singer Salvage. But at some point along the way, Bobby started flashing his headlights at us. We pull off, down a tractor path into a field. Sam and I get out of the Impala, and face Bobby. "What is it?" Sam asks. His voice is hoarse from crying. Mine probably would be too. My insides still burn from whatever Lilith did to me. My skin still feels too tight.

"I thought this would be a good spot." Bobby states. Sam looks confused, but I immediately understood what Bobby was saying. Of its own accord, my body backs to the trunk, and I place my hands down on it defensively.

"No." I force out through clenched teeth. Comprehension lights Sam's face, and then I watch his expression turn stony. He turns away from me to face Bobby.

"Now look, Dean's a hunter. It's what he would have wanted." Bobby protests. I shake my head as a fresh round of tears well up.

"He's gonna need his body for when he comes back." Sam states grimly. I nod along, because there is no way we are leaving Dean in the pit. Bobby opens his mouth to protest, but something in my expression stops him. Maybe it was the determination. I'll never know. Sam turns to me, and we open the trunk, reaching past Dean's body for the two shovels. I see headlights, and I grab Sam's arm. Wordlessly, he hops in the Impala and moves it to the middle of the field, where a small grove of trees interrupt the flat land. I look back, and find that Bobby is leaving. I shake my head, and chase after the Impala, shovels in hand.

The first rays of dawn are burning their way across the sky by the time we finish burying him. Both of us are covered in dirt, head to toe. We hop in the front of the Impala, and head down the road to the nearest town. Pontiac, Illinois. We rent a room, and take turns showering. When I finally turn the water off, I stand in front of the mirror. No longer covered in blood and dirt, I realize that I look fractionally different. Its in my skin tone, my eye color. They were both clearer. Realization grips me hard. Rather that kill me outright, Lilith forced my body to mature before it was ready. A process she knew would put me down for a while. In the process of understanding, came acceptance. Lilith would regret the years she wouldn't have before I exacted my revenge. Because I now had the control. I hear a knock at the door, and rush to dress. I exit the room to see Sam closing the door on a pizza guy, box in hand.

"I thought we should eat something," he stated. I nod my acceptance, and plop down into a chair. I pull myself a slice, and nibble on it experimentally. "So what's next for you?" Sam asks me. His voice breaks halfway through.

"I'm going to make Lilith regret ever being turned into a demon. I'm going to capture her, and torture her every day of my very very long existence." I state darkly. I drop the slice into the box, and push away from the table. Hunger was beating at me, and the pizza tasted like cardboard. Whether that was because it was cheap pizza, or the change, I wasn't sure. Sam's eyes reflected the rage in my own. "Look," I start, "Tell Bobby I'm sorry. I can't go back to the yard. I'll keep in touch," I state, grabbing up my backpack before Sam can protest. He chases me out the door.

"Where are you gonna go? You don't even have your car!" He calls after me. I turn to face him, walking backwards.

"Cover her up!" I shout back. I didn't need the gear. I didn't need the car, or money. All I needed, was to figure out how to be who I had become. For that, I needed one person.

~ Months later~ Dean's POV~

Dean glances at his cell phone, frowning. He'd just convinced Sam he was alive, and he couldn't get Cat to answer the phone. "She ditched it," Sam states. Dean gives him a questioning look. "Cat. Best I can tell, she ditched the phone, or shut it off. I tried tracing her call last week. I haven't spoken to her since..." Sam trails off, but Dean gets the message.

~SPN~Cat's POV~

I pull into the town, stopping at a little Chinese restaurant. I just needed a quick bite. And by 'bite' I meant that I needed some chi, and I was feeling like enjoying some Chinese. As I stepped through the door, I spot something that makes me freeze in place. Sam was standing next to someone in front of a fountain. Even from behind, the person looked suspiciously like Dean. "Can I help you?" a Chinese man asks, approaching me. I look back to Sam, and see that they had turned at the man's question. I backed out the door, turning and dashing for my car. My new car was the latest model Chevy Impala. I'd picked it up in Illinois. Before I could get my door open, a hand slammed it back shut. I sucked in a breath, calling forth the 'demon', felt the power flood my system, and turned. I was certain my eyes were blazing an unnatural neon blue. As I turned into the person closing my door, I shoved, extra strength tossing the person to the ground. It looked like Dean. But it couldn't be. I'd watched the beginning of his death. I spun to face Sam. I didn't know if it was still Sam, couldn't be sure. I pulled a knife from inside of my boot. His eyes widened, hands moving up soothingly.

"Cat, its me," he stated. I rolled my blue eyes, continuing forward. I felt arms go around my waist, and a shoulder driving me to the ground. I grappled with Not-Dean, as he banged my wrist against the concrete. I released the knife, lurched up, and locked lips with him. I pulled away, and felt the curious fluttering sensation in my stomach as I pulled in some of his chi. I pushed him away from me, rolling back, and analyzing what I'd ingested. He wasn't a demon. I'd eaten a demon before. They burned like acid, but were oddly satisfying. Dean felt... human. And his chi, the taste I'd had, made me hunger for more. I put a warning hand in the air as Sam stepped forward. As I worked on reigning in the Succubus aspects, I listened to Sam speak to Dean. "You wished for Cat?" he sounded judgmental. I watched Dean shrug it off from the corner of my eye, but I saw him looking at me, like he was ready to grab me.

"Where have you been?" Dean asked me, a spark of anger lighting his voice. I checked the side mirror of my car, to find my eyes their normal green color.

"I think the better question, is how the hell you're alive," I quipped.

"An army of angels went to hell and pulled me out," he replied. I rolled my eyes, flinging open my car door. He could lie all he wanted. His hand caught my wrist, jerking me back around. "I'm serious." he added.

Reluctantly, I found myself in their motel room. Sam headed out the door, tossing an "I'll be back," over his shoulder. Awkwardly I found myself sitting at the little table in the kitchen section.

"So Angels are real, you're shiny and scar free, and right now you are working a case where wishes come true?" I ask, summing up the conversation we'd had. "You're priorities are really fucked up."

"And yours are better? We're working on a case til we find a lead."

"See, I don't have to wait for leads anymore. I just have to find demons. I'll find her by interrogating demons." Dean scoffed. After a pause, he turned back to me. "Back at the restaurant... you're eyes." It was a statement, and a question at once. I sighed.

"Lilith forced my body to mature, back in Indiana. I'm in full control now," I replied.

"That looked like control." he quipped.

"I'm _hungry_ , and adrenaline causes the Succubus part of me to rise. Sometimes its hard to control, when its bad, when I'm in combat." I hopped up from my seat, and began to pace, frustration pushing through.

"Do you..." Dean trailed off. He nodded to the bed, a grin on his face.

" _NO,_ " I exclaimed. He shrugged his shoulders. I was going to say something again, when the door was thrown open. Dean and I leapt for our weapons, as a man in a ski mask stormed in, gun in hand.

"Gimme your valuables!" he exclaimed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean scoffs. The man turned the gun on me, and Dean put up his hands. Neither of us had made it to the bags yet, but I was slowly backing in that direction, as Dean kept the guy's focus on him. The guy saw me as I reached back, and before Dean could tackle him, pulled the trigger. Pain blossomed in my gut, and I gasped. Where as a human, I would have been down, now the Succubus took over. I stepped forward, watching Dean as he punched the man in the masked face. I pulled Dean away, leaning down and grasping the man by his throat. I pushed my mouth against his, sucking away at his chi, nearly nonexistent in the moment. In the next moment, easily, I snapped his neck. "Cat?" Dean asks as I turn to him. I shudder, reigning myself in, grasping for humanity.

"Guess I know how I react to being shot," I joked. I lost my balance, blood loss sapping away my strength. Dean caught at my shoulders, holding me up. With a sigh, I leaned forward, into him. Without having to ask, Dean pressed his lips to mine. I drew in a little, pulled back and waved at the open door. Dean helped me sit on the bed, and hurried to shut the door, bracing a chair against it when he realized the lock was smashed out. Dean returned to me, and I moved, straddling him when he'd sat down. I drew a shuddering breath, and I kissed him again, drawing a little chi. I was in a semi conscious blur as our clothing came off. I gasped as our bodies connected. The chi flowed easier. My hands wandered over his skin, nails biting as a small reward. The bullet tumbled out of the wound as it finished sealing. Dean rolled us, and I stopped the flow of chi, allowing myself to just enjoy the fact that he was alive.

We lay in bed, clothed, when the door wiggled. Dean hopped up to open it, gun in hand. Sam came in, eyes glancing at the sheet wrapped body in the corner.

"The wishes go bad," Dean states. "Very bad."

"I didn't think it was so bad," I comment, sending him a heated glance. Sam seemed to pause at that. He took in the disarray of the bed, the fact that I was laying in it. The blood on the floor, but the fact that no one seemed to be bleeding.

"So Bobby was right then," Sam states vaguely.

"A little more specific please," I prompt.

"Bobby figured that you went off the grid because Lilith had done something to you. Made your monster instincts come out. He figured you were hiding because you were killing people and didn't want us to hunt you." Sam says bluntly.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I bite out, jumping up from the bed, catching my bag in hand as I did. "Have fun with your wishing well." I head for the door, before Dean grabs my wrist. Freshly fed, I break his grip easily. "Don't." I hiss out. He follows me out the door. "You're gonna be on the fence and its going to piss me off more," I call back to him, not turning.

"Oh I'm not on the fence. Sam's right. You ditching your phone is suspicious. And the way you just snapped that guys neck in there. You haven't been killing people have you?" he demands quietly. My enhanced hearing picked it up easily, but I had a feeling he knew that. All of the muscles in my body froze, tense. I spun on my heel to face him at the accusation in his voice.

"I've been killing demons. I don't even really feed on humans. But I'm going to defend myself." I walk a few more feet before once again turning back. "By the way, that's the first human I've killed since maturing." Turning back was a mistake. Dean caught at my elbows, holding me in place.

"Then don't leave," the look in his eye was almost desperation. I curse beneath my breath, realizing what was going on, what had probably been going on from the beginning.

"I wonder how long." I murmur. He looked confused. I breath out slowly, my eyes lighting up blue. I expell chi in the breath. "There. Succubus charm cured. You won't want me now," I jerk back, throwing open my car door, and peeling out of the lot while Dean was still processing.

~Flashback~

"Sometimes, when a Succubus feeds from the same victim, a compulsion type deal happens," Alice told me.

"I told you to stop calling them victims," I state with a groan. I cover my face, a headache setting in. She continued on regardless.

"Anyways, the _person_ feels like they can't live without you. They are desperate to be in your presence. For you to want them. It's an anti mating thing. Its supposed to deter you from feeding from the same person. Succubi aren't meant to be monogamous." It was said as a warning. I saw it for what it was. When I'd first caught up with her, I was still torn up over Dean.

"Ok, so how do I fix that?" I question. She gives a little sigh.

"It takes practice. You have to be able to heal others by expelling the chi. Its not something I recommend either. You don't need to heal other people. Just keep yourself alive."

~End Flashback~

Alice seemed like she didn't care about me. But it was her strange way of caring that made her not want me to experiment on with healing. She explained that I could do it wrong and not be able to stop til I did. Not that I listened. I had nothing to lose really. I sighed, pounding my fist against the steering wheel. My phone ringing distracts me. I pull over, answering. "So what's a Succubus Charm?" Dean's voice greets. Exasperated, I explain. "Ah, well, whatever you did didn't change anything, just so you know. I didn't want you to stay out of some desperate need of you or whatever. I wanted you to stay because I don't want something to happen to you. I just came back from the dead, and I know how miserable it is. I don't want that for anyone I care about." I run my hand through my hair.

"Look, its better for you, if we don't... see each other," I say reluctantly. The noise on the other end of the phone tells me how Dean felt about that. "I'm sure we'll see each other later. After all, we're both after Lilith," I hang up the phone, not waiting for him to finish.

 _ **So I got this one out. I don't think I'm continuing past season 4. I don't know how I'll end it yet, but I have other ideas that want to be written and I just can't see continuing something that is making writing a chore for me. I'll finish this season, find a semi decent way to end this and then I'm not going to post my next fic of whatever choosing til its done. I hate doing this to you guys. Anyways, 20 chapters is decent for me, and it'll be more like 23 to 25 when its done.**_


	21. Sex and Violence

Chapter 21: Sex and Violence

I step out of the seedy motel room, flipping open my buzzing cell phone. I close the door to the room, double checking that the man in the bed was still sleeping. "It's Cat," I say, walking briskly to my car parked at the end of the lot.

"Cat, its Bobby," the voice on the end of the line is crackly and I check my phone. Cell service was spotty where I was. "I know you haven't been hunting, but... Sam and Dean could use your expertise, whether they want it or not." That caught my interest. I wasn't an expert at much of anything.

"My experise? At what?" I ask, skeptical. I hear a sigh on the end of the phone, followed by more static. "Bobby?"

"Where are you?" he asks. I ignore him, starting up my car. After a pause, he continues. "Sam and Dean are working a case involving..." I hear the reluctance in his voice. "Strippers." It was my turn to sigh.

"Where are they?" I ask. Bobby tells me. "And what are they facing that is so concerning?" Couldn't be a Succubus, that would be way too coincidental. And Dean knew how to kill one besides that.

"I think its a Siren," Bobby told me. I rolled my eyes. Just what Dean and Sam needed. The 'perfect' someone.

"I"m on my way, keep me posted. I'll figure out what I can about them on my way," I hung up the phone, tossing it on the seat beside me, and pulling out of the lot. I drive through the night and into the morning.

I make a stop at a gas station, and while fueling, I dial Alice's number. She answers after the third ring, sounding annoyed. I fill her in, starting with Dean being alive again, and ending with the Siren bit. "Wow this 'hunt' was practically made for you," she remarks snarkily. I blow the comment off, knowing that she just didn't think I should hunt. "Sirens. Can't say I know much about them. Other than they are like anti-Succubi. Instead of killing their victim, they get the victim to kill their loved ones. You know, just because I mentor Succubi, doesn't mean I know everything about all of you sucky sluts." Even though her voice was full of irritation, I couldn't help but to laugh at her description. "Here. Its an excerpt from...something. Greek poem. Says, and gimme a minute ancient Greek isn't my specialty, a bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor, under the spell of the song. So hope that helps, cause I didn't understand it." The line clicked as she disconnected. I hung up the gas pump and got in my car. I update Bobby, and peel out of the gas station.

I stepped up on the stage of the club, my eyes moving over the crowd. The music starts and I begin my dance. I spot Dean across the crowd, talking to a guy animatedly. Laughing. Suspicion sank in. Dean was entirely too guarded to laugh like that with a stranger. Especially in a room full of scantily clad women. Especially with a Succubus on the stage. Everyone, literally every other person in the crowd's gaze was fixed on me with rapture. Everyone but the two of them. I finished my set, and hurried off the from the back. The manager stopped me, offering me a more permanent job. He reeked of lust. Impatient, I jerked him forward by his clip on tie, and fed. I left him slumped against the wall, but by the time I made it to the parking lot, the Impala was gone. Cursing my luck, I jumped in my car, and left to try and find them.

When I reach the motel room, Sam's in there alone, phone broken to pieces on the floor beside him. "You come to the same conclusion, or are you pouting for another reason?" I asked. Sam looks up, and rushes forward to embrace me. I give him a gentle squeeze, leery of my just been fed strength. "Let's go find our boy," I told him, and he followed me from the room. We drove all over the town, even went back to the strip club, and were unable to find any sign of him. I dropped Sam at the motel. "I'm gonna case the hospital. Maybe he hasn't been completely stupid yet." I waited for Sam to go in, before pulling into a relatively dark space on the lot. I kept an eye on the window. Maybe I'd been wrong in thinking it was Dean. But either way, there was not one person those boys loved more than each other. So if the Siren would have them kill anyone, it would be the other. About the time that I start to see heavy activity in the window, I see Bobby dashing for the door. I leave my car, and chase after him. I come around the corner as Bobby jabs Dean in the shoulder with a shiny bronze dagger. Face to face with me was the man. Dressed as a fed. I grabbed the Siren by the throat, and I could see the reflection of my eyes in his. He began to struggle. "NO, NO!" I hear in the background. The Siren's hands claw at my arm, and then fall limp as the dagger finds a home in its back. I drop the Siren, my gaze flicking to the mirror, to see it's hideous true form. Then I walk down the hall to where Bobby is holding a cloth against the hole in Dean's shoulder.

"I'm just curious how these two ever made it without us," I quip to Bobby, grabbing first Sam then Dean, breathing chi into them. "That should clear up any lingering stabby feelings. As well as stabby wounds," I joke. I pull the cloth away to show both Dean and Bobby that he'd stopped bleeding. I step away, dusting off the leather pants I still wore from the club.

"You're not going anywhere," Dean states. I roll my eyes, but stay anyways. He turns his focus to his brother. "Me and you are gonna have a talk. But first, I need to talk to Cat before she runs off again. He leads me down the hallway, and we wind up in the Impala. "What did you think you were gonna accomplish by leaving?" Dean asks me. I sigh and shrug my shoulders.

"It's not in your personality to fall in love," I state simply. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Thanks for that," he voices, obviously pissed by the observation. I give my statement some thought, trying to figure out how to better get my statement across.

"I meant, that you weren't going to fall in love with me. And I can't stick around if you aren't. It isn't really fair to either of us. So its better if we aren't together. I guess its better if I'm not monogamous anyways, so really its kind of doing me a favor. But that's why I left," I finish. I don't look at him. Admitting to feelings for Dean wasn't easy. He didn't make it easy. The life of a hunter is hard. Nothing but traveling and fighting monsters. There isn't much room for anyone else. I could live with that. I wouldn't be able to live with Dean though. I had one purpose left to me.

"You know you're wrong, right?" he asks me. I look at him sharply. "I think you're an idiot for thinking otherwise." He gripped my arm and pulled me to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "And it doesn't have to be just us. There are different kinds of..." he trailed off. I knew he was avoiding the word love. But what he was offering. It was to try. For me. I didn't say anything for a long while, just enjoying his embrace.

"I still can't stay," I finally said, pulling away. He looked a little angry, that he'd said all of that and I was still leaving. "I need to avenge you, as dumb as that sounds. Even with you sitting here. I can't let Lilith live. When she's gone... then we'll talk," I slid out of the car, and started for my own. Dean caught me, dragging me to him. His mouth slanted down over mine, and I melted into him. He pulls away, and I do too, dazed. I smile at him, and head for my car, waving back.

 _ **Definitely one of the shortest I've done in a while. Was expecting to be able to do more with this chapter than I did. But its another chapter. Really sorry for my suck. I know I have a bunch of followers for this story, and I don't see how. This isn't anything like I originally set out for it to be. But its here and its almost done.**_


	22. Lucifer Rising

_**This also goes a little into Season 5, Sympathy for the Devil.**_

Chapter 22: Lucifer Rising

~Pre 'When the Levee Breaks'~

I drop the knife in my hand, watching it clatter to the floor dispassionately. I turn away from the devil's trap painted on the floor, and take a sip of water from a jug on the table. Littering the table are a hammer, and nails, salt, the jug, a bible, and a few other assorted items. I hold the water in my mouth, swishing it around a bit. I pull up the brunette head of hair, glaring into chocolate eyes. Blood covered the face of Ruby. I breath through the water in my mouth, expelling my chi. Ruby's wounds on her face healed, but her face twisted in pain. "Not to sound too cocky, but I invented that burning you're feeling Ruby. Takes a little while to stop hurting when the holy water is trapped inside you, doesn't it? Tell me. What is your real game plan here? Other than damning Sam to hell, where you can spend the rest of your nasty demon lives together?" I mentally flinched at what I'd called Sam. Ruby's eyes flooded black, but she still didn't speak. My phone rang. I checked the Devil's Trap, ensuring the lines were still solid. I opened my phone, and grabbed the salt, pouring a circle around the Devil's Trap.

"How's it coming?" Dean's voice greeted anxiously.

"Just the same as the last time you called. An hour ago." I said, frustrated. I left the salt on the table, and stepped out of the room. "Have you ever thought, just maybe, she really is trying to help us end the Apocalypse?" I asked quietly, frowning. Dean had called often, giving me new tips on how to torture. Things that worked on demons.

"Demons lie. And why would she have Sam drinking blood? How does that help?" he asked me equally as edgy as me. I sighed.

"I'm not getting anything from her. So either I let her go or I kill her. What's it gonna be?" I asked. I already knew the answer. I was turning back to the room before he even answered. The chair was empty. Like I'd known it would be.

"Kill the bitch," Dean told me.

"I can't. She escaped," I said, and hung up the phone.

~Now~

I look around the familiar kitchen of Singer Salvage. I'd just arrived, and Dean was brooding. I enter the living room in time to hear Bobby threaten to get his gun. I wave Bobby down, just as Dean whirls around to face him. "We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?" I place my hand on his arm soothingly.

"Of course Dean. We just hate to see it like this between you too," I tell him softly.

"I know you're pissed. And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your-" Bobby begins only to be interrupted.

"Blood? He's my blood? Is that what you were gonna say?" Dean asks. I wince. Even I wasn't dumb enough to mention blood to Dean right now. They continue to argue, and I glance out the window. When I turn back, Dean's gone. Bobby is staring where he'd been, his mouth gaping open.

"Bobby?" I question. Bobby takes a minute to reply.

"One minute he's there, the next he's just... gone." It takes a minute to process. Then I'm grabbing books off the shelf. Bobby seems to know what I'm doing, because he's moving too, gathering supplies. Its not long before the entire living room looks like an old school witch shop. I have the coffee table pulled in the center of the room and set up for the first locator spell I know. The easiest one. Pendulam, map, and something belonging to the person you need to locate. I have Dean's shirt wrapped around the fist I hold the pendulam in. After a while of uselessly swinging the pendulam, I move on. Hours pass. I throw the shirt on the table.

"We need something stronger than a shirt. We need blood." I state, standing. I head up the stairs and grab something of Sam's from his room. I spread a map across Sam's bed, and easily pick up his location. Stepping over to my room, I change into a soft pair of jeans a tank top and one of Dean's plaid shirts. I strap a knife to my thigh, and hurry down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asks. I give him a malicious grin.

"I need Dean's blood. And I know just where to find it," I slam the door behind me. I look between the Impala, and my two cars. One covered with a grey tarp. Tempted to take the Impala, I decide on my Malibu instead. I fling off the tarp and slide behind the wheel. The engine purrs as I turn it over, and I roar out of the lot, heading to find Sam.

I pull up to an old farmhouse, cutting the engine and rolling up as close as the car will take me. I slide from the seat, double checking my knife. I creep up to the farmhouse, and the closer I get, the more I can hear what sound like a woman's screams coming from the cellar. I storm in, to find Sam torturing a nurse, with Ruby watching. As I enter, the screams quiet. Then suddenly, start up again, as the nurse gets confused. I realize Sam had been torturing a demon, and the demon had let the human take control. "As I walk forward, Ruby approaches me. "What are you doing here?" she asks. I glare at her.

I'm here for Sam's blood," I state, glaring at the taller Winchester. He looks confused.

"Look, I appreciate you freeing me and all, but you aren't weakening Sam. We've got a job to do." Ruby said, crossing her arms. I barely spare her a glance.

"I freed you, because going cold turkey was going to kill Sam. And I'm not asking for his blood. I'll take it if I have to." I quip. I feel the tingling in my body. My eyes change, and I pull on my strength, kicking Ruby across the room. I step up to Sam who puts out his hands.

"Cat, stop," he says. "Ruby has a point, I don't know what you need my blood for, but its almost time. We know where to find Lilith. We are heading there now. There isn't a lot of time before she breaks the last seal." I turn to find Ruby behind me, and I swipe at her with the knife.

"Dean's missing, and you may not care, but I do." I score a hit, opening a gash along Ruby's forearm. Ruby slugs me in the face, and I stumble back a little, recovering quickly.

"Cat, we'll find Dean afterward," Sam tries again. I don't spare him a glance, focusing on my fight with Ruby. I score another line on her outer thigh, before something hits me in the back of the head. I turn as I fall, fighting the black creeping in on my vision to see Sam standing over me looking guilty.

I wake up in the backseat of a car, tied and gagged. I struggle to sit up and see out the window. I spot Ruby standing beside the car, and up ahead, Sam's looking at a sign that reads St. Mary's Convent, 2 miles. I hear the nurse crying behind me, so I realize she must be in the trunk. My knife is gone. Holding my breath, I clasp my hands, thankful they were tied together and not apart. I wait til Ruby approaches Sam, and squeeze. I feel the ligaments in my thumb stretching painfully. I keep applying pressure, and eventually I feel my thumb pop as it dislocates. I breathe out and tug on my hands. Unable to free myself, I set to work on the other thumb. I see Ruby begin to turn back, so I drop down in the seat, eventually dislocating the other thumb. After a little more tugging, and most definitely a little rope burn, I get my hands free. I roll on my back as Ruby gets close enough to see me. She leans down and gives me a viscious smirk, looking over her shoulder to Sam and back to me. I narrow my eyes. She steps around the car, and I hear the trunk open. Moving quickly, I tug the cloth from my mouth, and throw open the car door. I dash out and tackle Sam. "Whatever it is she wants you to do, damn it Sam, don't do it. Something's wrong, I feel it. Listen Sam, I don't-" I'm interrupted by Ruby ripping me away from him.

"I swear we'll find him when we're done here, Cat," Ruby says. "Lilith is breaking this seal. Tonight. We can't just abandon the world to the apocalypse while we go rescue Dean." She's talking to me in what should have been a soothing voice. But all I see is the excitement in her eyes. And the bruising grip of the hand on my arm. The one keeping me from Sam.

"If you don't help your brother now," I began, "then you are the monster you think you are. Because that would mean, that you don't feel anything. If I were you, I'd do everything I could to save the person who died for me. Because let's not forget, that if it weren't for your brother, you wouldn't be here, sipping blood, preparing to take out the number one bitch. Maybe he should have left you. Then you wouldn't be slutting with a demon." I yank my arm from her grasp.

"You're a demon too," Ruby points out. I turn and start down the road. "Sam, you can't let her leave."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because she's a demon too. And maybe, you need a little more than Cindy there has to give."

"I'm not draining Cat too, she's... family," Sam responds with finility.

"You don't have to drain her. Just take a little," Ruby says. I hear the conversation, my hearing enhanced from the Succubus state. I'm not surprised when I hear Ruby's footsteps catching up to mine. I turn at the last second, to deliver a punch. That she anticipated, blocked, and dealt one of her own to my sternum. Breathless, I drop, gasping and waiting for air. She wrestles me up and takes me back to Sam, where he looks away as she ties me back up. I ignore the screams as he goes for the nurse. When he's done, Ruby shows him the time, and shoves me into the backseat. They drive the last two miles. And take me with them into the church. We see Lilith at the alter, and she turns, slamming the door. "Now Sam, use her, to get you through the door." Ruby shoves me into Sam, who grabs me, shooting Ruby a frustrated look. Ruby hands him a knife and I feel him draw it through the skin of my wrist. I struggle, and Ruby grabs me in a headlock, holding me in place. I feel Sam's mouth at my wrist taking my blood, and I'm disgusted. I begin to feel weak, and that's when Sam stops. He turns to the door, determined. Ruby shoves me to the floor, and follows Sam through the open door. I crawl for the exit. Just as I reach the door, Dean bursts through.

"Cat!" he reaches for me. I shake me head, and point back towards the alter.

"Go, fast, before he does it," I say. I watch Dean go, summoning myself up enough to hear. It was too late. Ruby was showing her true colors. I hear as Dean says that he doesn't care that he was too late. I know the second Ruby takes her last breath. And then Dean is back for me, pulling me up into his arms. We go back to the alter room, where Sam looks pretty damn miserable.

"Cat, I'm so sorry," Sam says. I look at his puppy face for a minute.

"I don't know if I can forgive you Sam." I state, "But I'm gonna try. Because we're family. Because this is the apocalypse, and we need to stick together. But Sam," I pause, "Don't ever try to drink my blood again." Dean clutches me closer as Lilith's blood is almost finished with the pattern. "Dean... since it's the apocalypse... I love you." I tell him. He doesn't say anything, he just continues to hold me. I don't need him to tell me that he loves me. That isn't Dean. I feel as Dean and Sam reach a hand to each other.

"Dean...he's coming." Sam says.

"And we'll be there. Together." Dean says. The blinding white light coming from the blood pattern is overwhelming us. "Come on!" Dean shouts, and we run for the doors. They swing shut. We pull as hard as we can, but the doors won't budge. We turn to the light, covering our eyes. I tumble to my knees, Dean and Sam not far behind. The light reaches the edge of the sigil, and bursts from there.

I jolt out of the seat of the plane I suddenly found myself in. Sam in Dean are in the seats across the aisle, looking as confused as me. The oxygen masks drop as the plane hits the turbulence caused by the light. I don my mask, watching as Sam and Dean do the same.

We're in a rented car. Heading for Chuck's place. Looking for Castiel. "Do you think... maybe I shouldn't be here? For when we find Castiel?" I ask. Dean looks over his shoulder, confused, and when comprehension dawns, he shakes his head in denial.

"Cat, you aren't going anywhere," he says, tossing me a crooked smile into the rearview mirror. I smile back happily, as we roll down the road.

 _ **Ok. so this is where I leave it. Sam, Dean, and Cat, apocalypse hunters lol. This isn't the ending I envisioned. But its the best ending I can give you. I'm gonna take some time off of writing. I'm definitely not cut out to write in the Supernatural fandom. I'll leave it to the pros like Whatyouseeintheshadows. Hope you enjoyed the story guys, thanks for sticking with it.**_


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